Till Her Death Do Us Part
by Gabi217
Summary: (Rated R For Safety) Draco's Mum dies, leaving him at her will to leave all other women and marry his worst enemy-the Mudblood. What happens between the two torn lovers, and can they get over this obstacle? DG
1. Default Chapter

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Default Chapter

{Disclaimer: Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

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She had pale skin, milky complexion. Her hair was a silvery blonde and had never been cut. Her eyes were actually violet-red, and hologram-ed in the dark. The moonlight that fell around her gave her a sparkle-y glow, and her eyes bore holes in the ground. She was well-rounded; in a good way, curved as well as a girl of her age should be. 16. He ticked the numbers off on his shaking and asleep fingers. His heart was racing, and he realized he'd been holding his breath for a very long time when it came out as a gasp. She spun around, and she was Ginevra. Red hair. Short to the shoulders. Her green eyes tore holes in the air. That Weasley kid. And standing behind her, a hand on her stomach, was a platinum blonde. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. His pale lips gently grazing her smooth, innocent skin. His stomach clenched as did his teeth, anger grinding them to and fro. He felt suddenly dizzy as he rolled the thought around in his head. How could he have her, when Potter himself was so much better?  
  
Ginny and Draco. His stomach flipped and turned as the thought appeared in his head. His eyes lashed around in their sockets, red and burned somehow by seeing this sight. His stomach seemed to agree, and as he looked back up he felt sick. She had fallen to the ground, weighed down by her burden to keep her new secret just that. She was on her knees now, gently falling beneath the newly priced blonde, his lips and teeth trailing paths on her strangely immature skin that made him sick. He clutched his stomach as he pieced her puzzle together. The spells. the spells had made her that way. And he groaned, holding his stomach, as he keeled over, falling from the safe clutches of the tree. And just as he was about to hit the soggy earthy ground, he awoke.  
  
The world shifted and whirled as she rolled over, awakened by the lighting of a match. She gasped into the night, feeling her cold sweat clinging to her skin as she clutched the comforter to her bare chest. She saw a shadow and called out into the dark after finding the opposite space empty.

"Draco?" she called softly. "Draco, where are you?"

No reply came immediately. Moments, which seemed like an eternity, passed, and a light flipped on a few meters away. The door was left ajar, the soft glow leaking out in a shaft of radiance across the room. She shifted in his bed, clutching the blankets ever closer to her nakedness. She pulled a sheet to herself, wrapping it around her body, as her dainty feet touched the frozen stone floor. She grunted inaudibly, and pushed herself off the bed in an attempt to clear her head with the frozen floor. Once she had gained her balance, she tiptoed as quietly as possible to the bathroom door, and placed her newly manicured hand gently on the oak. She heard sighs on the inside, and wiping sleep out of her eyes, she pushed softly on the door, poking her head in.

"Draco?" she whispered quietly, "Draco, are you in there?"

Draco looked up, startled, clutching the parchment in his hand as if to hide it from her. The soft glow of the room seemed to reflect off the tears glistening on his pale cheeks, as he stifled a sniffle and made an attempt to hide his already seen tears. His pale blonde hair was ruffled; bedheaded, and his deep gray eyes seemed to be pained. She entered the room, pushing back her red locks so she could clearly see his icily panicked face.

His gaze was centered strongly on the floor, but as she advanced toward him it moved up, finding the sheet wrapped around her, before focusing on her face. He sucked back a sniffle by passing it as a yawn before looking up at her again.

"I'm sorry, Gin, did I wake you?"

She shook her head, bouncing her fiery curls.

"No, Draco, you didn't. I felt you leave, and I knew something was wrong. So tell me," she whispered softly, "because I don't think I've ever seen the impenetrable Draco Malfoy cry before. What's wrong?"

He shook his head, and as he did, his breathing broke with sobs as he placed his hand on his forehead, trying to hold back his tears.

Ginny, completely distracted at seeing him broken, sat on the bathroom couch beside him, speechless. Slowly, she took his frail hand and placed it in her lap, rubbing smooth circles into its palm. He leaned over, and placed his head on her shoulder, his platinum locks tickling her cheek. She shifted positions, facing his side as he placed his head in the crook of her neck, crying onto her bare shoulder. She rubbed his back as she waited for it to pass, running a hand through his hair and placing small butterfly kisses to his skin while he cried it all away.

When he was finally done for a few moments, or at least as far as she could tell, she stroked the skin on his face as she whispered soothing words to calm him down.

She glanced at the parchment crumbled in his fingers once more, and looked into his dreary gray eyes.

"Draco?"

He looked up at her, hurt deep in his eyes.

"Yes, Gin?"

She wrapped a shock of hair around her slim finger.

"What's the matter?"

He glanced at the wadded up piece of paper in his hands, and slowly began to un-wad it. He traced the lines of the stationary, roses and then at the bottom the Malfoy Family mark, an "M" of serpents of green and silver. He seemed distracted when he spoke, as if he'd forgotten what the letter was about and had trouble remembering it.

"S-Something happened. T-to my mother."

She mauled it over. His mother? Hadn't she died already? Oh yes. She remembered it quite clearly: His mother had died upon entering her 5th year, and was risen from the dead, good as new. She wondered....

"Yes? What happened to her, Draco?"

He silenced, and his hesitation almost scared her.

"S-She's died."

"_Again_?" she asked.

He sighed.

"Yes."

And then silence devoured them both, leaving a heavy mark in her heart. His loss had been hers also, although any loss of his was of hers too.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Draco. I really am. I'd make it up to you, if I could."

The silence was so thick it could be cut with a knife. At last, he stood up and grabbed her hand.

"Just comfort me, ok Gin? I don't want anything sympathy. I just want to forget it for now."

She nodded and smiled, leaning up to capture his mouth with hers as he lead their way back into his private room, ready to make him forget his troubles with her love.  
  
**(End Chappie! Review and tell me if I should even dare go on! LoL)**


	2. Chapter 2 : Till Her Death Do Us Part

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Chapter Two ~ Till Her Death Do Us Part  
  
{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}  
  
**(The * means I could've made the word up. LoL. Just thought you should know. Now on with the chappie! And remember....more reviews=the faster the next chappie!)**  
  
Virginia woke the next morning pressed against the slightly hot chest of another, his hand resting and stroking the middle of her stomach, the absent sighing and breathing hissing in her ear making her smile for a moment. But then she remembered the tiny bit of conversation they'd had the night before, making it impossible for her to smile. His mother had fallen ill, from what the letter said, and had passed into another life during the night. Her ghost still roamed the Mansion, though, and it was as if her presence wasn't absent at all. But the ghost wasn't the same.  
  
Narcissa may have been the wife of Lucius Malfoy, but she could be kind in her own way. And she did believe in rules of family. She was thoroughly tired of everyone in her family marrying purebreds, purebloods, everyone called them, and destined for her only son to marry someone...else. She felt her son was destined also for a new kind of wife-one whom he wouldn't have any abnormal connections with, such as pureblood-and said so in her final will. But Ginny hadn't been able to read the last portion, seeing as Draco's tears had stained the ink into small blots on the parchment. She'd said nothing to him about it, of course, afraid of it upsetting him farther. But she did, on the other hand, find it quite strange.  
  
But, all the more, she told herself it shouldn't be her business, and reminded herself this once more as she rolled off his silk green sheets, making his smile of comfort disappear at finding her absence. She breathed out a sigh of relief at finding him still asleep, and dressed quietly in the dim early morning light. It must've been before dawn, by now. She pulled back his curtains gently and sat on the edge of his bedside, close to him. Hesitating, she waited for him to shift under his eyelids before stooping down and planting a kiss gently and sweetly to his lips, and then gathered her belongings and slipped out the door.  
  
She went on her normal course of actions, down the hallway, take a left. Check the staircase. Straight down the corridor. Another left. Password; up the steps, another password; and then, finally, home free.  
  
She went through everything nowadays as if on some schedule...some weird timetable that had slipped through her ears into her head. It was always like this now in the mornings. She hadn't a chance to wonder why during all her nonsense, she just abided absent-mindedly and continued with her doings.  
  
Now the water gurgled in her private bathroom as she filled the soft pink porcelain tub, bewitched to stop the running water when her personal water level had been filled. She went through another basic morning procedure: Washcloth, towel, bathrobe; take off makeup and other such things, get soap, wash face. But before she washed her face she stood in front of her mirror, speaking to it as if it were some real living thing.  
  
"If only I knew what was happening to me these days. Since that bloody damn incident with the Chamber, I must be becoming a monster. What have I done to myself?"  
  
She leaned on the sink and glared into her own eyes, mischief tugging at the corners and hurt plastered beneath the hard black pupils and soft brown iris. She'd wanted to scream, and as she licked her lips she noticed that his taste was still lingering on them. She rubbed at them, hoping to at least dullen* the taste, but to no avail. Gathering the washcloth up in her hands, she scrubbed at them, hoping to wipe away his sweetness, but again, it was still there. Becoming thoroughly agitated but defeated, she stepped down from the sink area and glanced at her tub instead.  
  
She slowly tugged at her clothes, cold and wrinkled from finding them carelessly tossed into hidden places in Draco's private dorm. They smelled of him also, and she tore them off and discarded them into her hamper. She stepped over the rim of the tub into the water, and settled herself under its depths until her chin met the surface. Swirling her finger in the water in a tiny spiral, she whispered an assortment of spells, which responded in a colorful array of bubbles and soaps lingering on the water. She sighed, and thought of all her schedules. Everything was the same, day after day. All but one. One schedule was complicated; and complicated it was to find moments or hours by themselves without being interrupted, seen, or heard. It was dreadfully tiring sometimes, and bitterly hard to hold themselves over for at least 3 class periods without seeing their other half.  
  
She wondered what would become of them as she donned clean and dry clothes and robes. Would they stay this way forever? Was she doomed to live in a life of secrets until cruel fate spoke its peace? She was horrified and immediately decided against it as she absently combed her fingers through her straight strands of silky red hair. As she snapped her shiny Mary- Jane's on and grabbed her book bag and cloak, she decided to bring it up herself letter this evening to Draco himself.  
  
Draco had never even seen it coming. What was his dead mother playing at, laying a card such as that down on his perfect set? He'd had it all planned, and she had to come and bloody fucking ruin it. He ran a hand through his blonde locks as he stood in front of his mirror, cursing quite loudly under his breath.  
  
"Stupid whore bag. Who did she bloody fucking think she was? God? Had she planned this all out before, and somehow failed to tell me? Well, I can fucking tell her right now, I won't have any of it. She can crawl her lazy ass to hell if she bloody well thinks I'm going to stand here and let her stomp on MY fucking toes."  
  
He blew out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his forehead, feeling suddenly quite dizzy at his rapid waste of breath. He pulled on his shoes, all the while thinking to himself.  
  
'_Ginny'll have a fucking cow. I haven't even told her yet, the poor imp. I wonder what she's thinking._' He sighed.  
  
'_She's probably thinking how bloody fucking stupid I am for crying like a baby for the first time in years, all because my bloody mother dies. Hell, she probably thinks I'm a waste of her time._'  
  
He'd said his last statement out loud, and lo and behold, there was his [cousin], Blaise Zabini, standing at the door.  
  
"Yeah, you're probably right," Blaise laughed.  
  
Draco jumped about a foot in the air.  
  
"Holy fuck! Don't _do_ that!"  
  
Blaise shrugged.  
  
"You can't forget, it's my job, Draco."  
  
"Yeah, well, you do damn good at it, then."  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, who's '_she_'?"  
  
Draco was once more broken away from his lingering train of thought, and looked at his [cousin], startled.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know who."  
  
"Um, no, I'm quite afraid I don't."  
  
"Oh, well, you seemed pretty damn well sure of yourself. But I wanna know! Who is she?"  
  
Draco scammed his numb brain for an idea.  
  
"Granger," he blurted out.  
  
Blaise seemed startled.  
  
"Granger?" he repeated.  
  
"Yeah." he pulled the crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket, which contained a copy of Narcissa's will and her last letter to her son, staring at it.  
  
"I gotta marry her." he muttered silently, the thought saddening him.  
  
Blaise seemed shocked, to say in the least.  
  
"_Granger_?" he repeated once more. "And _you_? **_Married_**?"  
  
Draco nodded gravely.  
  
"Well, you're in one hell of a shit hole _there_, my friend."  
  
He nodded once more, silently thinking of what he would tell Ginny when she arrived at his room again this evening. He knew, in the least, that it would surely break her heart. He groaned and grabbed his bag, fastening his cloak firmly around his shoulders.  
  
"Yeah, well, it'll all work out. Maybe," Blaise said after a long and sad silence.  
  
"Yeah, maybe," Draco muttered as he wandered out the door into the Slytherin Common Room.  
  
**(End chappie! Quite boring, yes, me knows this. But if you review anyway, I'll post another slightly UN boring chappie! Thanks!) **


	3. Chapter 3 : Surprises Dont Have

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Chapter Three ~ Surprises Don't Have to Come in Boxes  
  
{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}  
  
**(The * means I could've made the word up. LoL. Just thought you should know. Now on with the chappie! And remember....more reviews= the faster the next chappie!)**  
  
It was quite late; Draco was in his bathroom, mulling over that damn letter from his dead mother. He'd left the water running so all people could think he was in the shower, and not bother to, well, bother him. It was after dinner, after Quidditch practice, (which was against Gryffindor, which meant against _Ginny_, whom he hadn't made eye contact with all day), and had showered and dried and discarded his smelly uniform, and was waiting for her knock. But at the moment he had quite forgotten that, seeing as he was engulfed in the letter from Narcissa, the one willing him to marry _Hermione Granger_. God knows she had been cruel, but she had never been this cruel. Making him marry _her_ had only done worse to his ego, and, shoddier, his heart. He'd been cruelly playing with the edges of the paper, tearing it and then whispering a word and making it seem repaired, before tearing it again. He blew out a heavy sigh and stared at the ground, wondering how he would break the news. Would he do it tonight? He suddenly felt anxious for Hermione to die and was severely startled when Ginny's special knock sounded. Suddenly he thought:  
  
I wonder where the littlest Weasel came into my fucking life? She's got no place here! It all started with a damn kiss and now I can't let her out of my life...what am I gonna do...  
  
***Rat-a-tat-tat-tat***  
  
The last of Draco's thoughts faded in and out of his head as he answered his private dorm room door....  
  
I hate you but I love you, I can't stop thinking of you...it's true...I'm stuck on you ..  
  
His heart lurched and sudden tears in his eyes spilled over, but he brushed them aside as he opened the heavy door.  


  
Ginny saw what possibly the only girl in all the school would see.  


  
A pained Draco Malfoy.  


  
And right before she stepped over the threshold, her heart itself was enveloped in a most gruesome pain; the pain of what Blaise had said to her.  
  


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*Flashback*  
  
_Ginny had been sitting at the Gryffindor table, completely calm, a sleek but false happiness swimming inside her. A shadow fell over her lunch plate, and much to her surprise, Blaise Zabini stood towering over her, staring at her with a strange look on his face.  
  
"Weaselette," was his greeting toward her.  
  
"Zabini," she smirked back.  
  
"I see you're having a lovely luncheon this afternoon," he said.  
  
"Yes, quite, up until now," she replied. He scowled.  
  
"Well, I'm glad I'm unpleasant in your thoughts," he said.  
  
"Yes, well, it'd be more pleasant if your face didn't make me want to purge," she sneered.  
  
He smirked back to her, and they just sat there. Hermione, who had always been uncomfortable under Blaise's presence, stood up, grabbing her things.  
  
"While you two imbeciles are insulting each other, I'd rather like to take a trip to the library for some late research. Bye."  
  
"It'd be most pleasant if I'd joined you. Don't wear yourselves out," Ron snickered as he stood up.  
  
The last of the Golden Trio, however, remained firmly planted in his seat, staring intently at Blaise with a deep curiosity. Blaise snapped his thoughts.  
  
"Pot-head, would it insult you if I most kindly asked for your presence to be...well...diminished?"  
  
Harry nodded sullenly, and removed himself from the bench. With one last lingering look at Ginny, he left to skip after the other two.  
  
Ginny scowled.  
  
"This must be important, isn't it."  
  
"Actually, quite. May I speak to you alone?"  
  
"As in, privately?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can I trust you alone, Blaise?"  
  
"Actually, yes."  
  
"Alright then."  
  
She got up, with help, from her bench, and followed Blaise out of the Great Hall reluctantly.  
_  
_"Now, what do you want?" She drawled.  
  
"I only needed to tell you something."  
  
"And it was so important, you had to drag me away from my lunch?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, go on then, I'm half starved here."  
  
"I came to give you news."  
  
"And only me?"  
  
"Yes. Well, from what people are saying, yes. You're Draco's new toy."  
  
"New?"  
  
"You aren't new? Wow, I've missed a lot snogging Parkinson, then."  
  
She made a face.  
_  
_"You aren't the first to."  
  
"Shut up, you little Weasel!" He snapped.  
  
"Oh, Weasel's getting a tad bit on the old side, Blaise. Try something else."  
  
"Well, I won't have to, because this'll shut your little Weasley mouth right up."  
  
"Well, come on then!"  
  
"Draco's marrying the Mudblood."  
  
Ginny's mouth fell open, wishing she hadn't heard that.  
_  
**_*End Flashback*_**  
  


"Ginny," he whispered.  
  
"Draco, tell me," she replied.  
  
"Tell you what, love?"  
  
"Tell me if it's true. Tell me..." she trailed off.  
  
"Tell you what?"  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
He was silent. How could he react?  
  
"And if you loved me, then, _why_, are you marrying Hermione?"  
  
Her voice broke at her best friends name, and she fell to his knees in a flurry of tears, pain, and flashy red hair.  
  
**(End chappie! Quite boring, yes, me knows this. It was kinda cliffy. I sucks at those anyways. But if you review anyways, I'll post another slightly UN boring chappie! Thanks!) **


	4. Chapter 4 : Who Says I Can't Love?

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Chapter Four ~ Who Says I Can't Love

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

(SOMEONE, FOR HELL'S SAKE, TELL ME HOW TO USE THE HTML CODES ON FF.NET! I could put them to great use! And also, the * means I could've made the word up. LoL. Just thought you should know. Now on with the chappie! And remember….more reviews= the faster the next chappie!)

He didn't know what to say. The tears that had been momentarily brushed away had seemed to flow back, as he watched this temperamental girl crying at his bare feet. Her fiery hair clung to her face as she cried, choking haphazardly on her sobs as she did so. Draco's heart wanted to melt, right then, but he straightened himself, recovering his pride, and knew that Malfoys' couldn't love. 

Ginny didn't want to look up. It burned her beautiful coffee colored eyes, which you might say could've been drowning. But she did so anyway. She tilted her head back to take in his silver eyes, his platinum blonde hair, his muscular upper body. But the way the light reflected off them, his eyes seemed full of hurt. Or was it dignity? She didn't know. Her chest hurt; her thumping yet pained heart was pulling at her heartstrings, aching to get away. She hoped for a response, not some pitiful stare, and knew in one of her tangled heartbeats, that it was wrong to come here. 

Because he couldn't love her. His stubbornness got in the way of all that; the fact was not he could not love her, the fact was that he wouldn't. And as simple as that, she clawed her way to her feet, and gathered her cloak around her, choking still on her tears. She brushed away her locks of red, and pushed them past her shoulders, straining not to cry anymore. With one last glance in his eyes, she turned, speaking over her shoulder.

"I suppose it was wrong of me to come here, to a man who doesn't love," she choked.

"Ginny, don't play games. God _knows_ my father'll hate me."

"Your **father**?!? Since when are you one to care about rules? Since when do you care about old Lucius Malfoy?" she spat, careful not to insult him.

"Since now," he whispered, "but he isn't the _only_ one, Gin."

She stifled a few more captured sobs and tried to brush away the remainder of her tears, not looking at him. 

"Silly silly Gin. Nobody could keep me away from the last Weasel," he crooned, wrapping his arms around her.

Her bottom lip wiggled under all the emotion, her temper decreasing slowly, as she turned to face him, still tangled in his arms.

"But…"

"But what, luv?"

"But you never answered me."

"Answered you about what, dear?"

"Do you love me? Just a tad? Just as much of the size of a crumb?"

Her ears perked up, waiting for his response. 

"Oh Gin," he sighed, snuggling into her curly red hair, "I love you much more than that."

She shuddered with sniffles and released sobs as he gathered her into his arms, tucking her redhead underneath his chin, whispering tiny nothings into her ear to calm her down. He cradled her to his chest, stroking her bright red locks and her sweet milky skin. He removed her cloak and pulled her under the covers with him, and tucked the silver & green comforter underneath her chin. He tsked her and whispered her to sleep, brushing away the tears that continued to fall. At 12 o'clock midnight, he pulled away from her sleeping form reluctantly. He tiptoed to the door, pulling a sheet ever tighter around his lower form, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and running his slim pale fingers through his bright blonde hair. 

As he came to the door, he checked the peephole, to see his [cousin] Blaise standing right in front of the eyehole. Immediately he cracked open the door, enough for Blaise to slip through. As he did so, his [cousin] snuck a glance around the room, double taking to see, was it true? A few shocks of red hair laying across a white pillow, and a slightly audible but definately beautiful mewling sound escaping her lips as she slept. Tear stains streaked her pale cheeks, and he shot Draco a knowing glance. 

"Ah, so she _is_ your new toy."

"Toy? Why would I use her as a toy? She's so innocent."

"Innocent? Draco, get a life my friend. But sleep with whoever you must."

"Blaise, what in hell are you doing in _my_ room, at," he checked his watch and his clock, "12 midnight?"

"I've come to…to…tell you something. Something about the Mudblood."

He went silent, but a grin emerged on his sleepy features.

"What's she done now, then?"

Blaise smirked.

"We found her sleeping with the Weasel."

He made a face, glanced around Draco, and then said, 

"The _OTHER _Weasel."

Draco nodded, and glanced at the crumpled letter resting on his bedside table. 

"Sucks to her lover, then."

****

(End chappie! Quite boring, yes, me knows this. . . I sucks at those anyways. But if you review anyways, I'll post another slightly UN boring chappie! Thanks!)


	5. Chapter 5 : Quiet Conversations

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Chapter Five ~ Quiet Conversations

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

(The * means I could've made the word up. LoL. Just thought you should know. Now on with the chappie! And remember….more reviews= the faster the next chappie!)

Draco sat on one of the armchairs in his private dorm, Blaise standing a few feet away, watching him contemplate this strange ordeal.

"When was it?" he asked. 

"Not long ago, actually," Blaise smirked. 

"Who caught them?"

"Me and Parkinson."

"Parkinson? You and that lazy ass? What, are you two an item?"

"No, thank God. Draco, you know I would never date below me."

"Pansy isn't below you all the way."

"Well, if I recall right, you were the one that always hung on her every word."

"Hey, I was only with her because she was a decent fuck wherever I could get her alone, alright?"

"Whatever you say, my friend."

"Damn right! Now continue telling me about this whole Mudblood-and-Weasel fling."

"Oh, there's much to tell."

"Well then, do tell it."

Draco silenced himself to listen to the worthwhile story that his [cousin] was about to share from his own memory.

**__**

*Flashback*

It was 10 o'clock. Everyone was fleeing to their rooms at this time of night; mostly couples, if everyone shed a little light of truth on it. Among the crowd, which was on its way to Gryffindor tower, was a particular "couple", Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. (also quite well known as The Mudblood and the Weasel to Slytherins all over the school.) But as the rest of the crowd continued up the staircase before it changed, The Mudblood had a sudden idea and flung her most recent lover into a quite desolate, quite abandoned old Charms classroom, near the end of an empty corridor. Flinging him down onto the teacher's desk, she straddled him, lifting her skirts, pressing her lips against his with a show of passion.

But they weren't quite alone enough. 

Near the door, watching, was a most upsetting couple, but one with big enough mouths that the secret would be out before the dawn broke. But, Blaise Zabini, who was part of that distressing couple, had a better idea. He spoke to Pansy in hushed tones, groaning to keep himself under control after seeing this most, ahem, awkward sight. He pressed his palm against the wall, silently, and gently made his way around the room, not letting his heels touch the ground. At last, when he was right behind the Mudblood herself, and willing himself not to vomit, he grabbed her hair and pulled her off of the Weasel, flinging her onto the floor. The Weasel himself was panicking, zipping himself back into his pants he jumped off the desk, fear zoning into his eyes. 

"Looks like we've found ourselves quite a sight, 'eh, Pansy?" 

He held Hermione on the ground by her hair. 

"Leave 'er alone, Blaise!" cried the Weasel.

"Oh, damnit Blaise, you should've just left them alone." 

__

"What for? God knows it's always fun to tease a Weasel."

"Well, I think you've teased him enough."  


__

"Who's side are you on, Parkinson?"

"Definitely not yours."

"What, are you sucking up to them so you can go suck Pot-head's dick or something?"

"Would it be any business of yours if I was?"

"Would YOU like to screw the Weasel?"

"It's better than screwing you."

He threw his head back and laughed, letting go of Hermione's hair. 

"Well, Draco's going to have a laugh at this one, is he not?" he proclaimed as he left the disturbed and aroused Gryffindor couple to straighten themselves out. 

****

*End Flashback*

Draco did indeed laugh, but kept his voice down as not to wake Virginia from her strong slumber.

"What happened when you left?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said it was only ten when that happened."

"Oh, yes, well, uhm…me and Pansy got bored, you see…."

Draco rolled his eyes and arranged his mouth in a smirk. 

"You fucked her in the hallway, didn't you."

"Well, no, not exactly. She wanted a bit more privacy."

"Then where?"

"In an alcove, actually. Outside the classroom they were in."  


He let Draco laugh for a moment.

"What are you going to say to _her_?"

"Oh, I don't know, something along the lines of, 'Blaise saw two of the Golden Trio shag last night' should do the trick."

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Would you rather I tell her that you told me about shagging Pansy instead? She'd be in a damn hurry to tell the world that one."

"Oh whatever. But that Pot-Head was twirking it too."

"No. Really?"

"Yeah! He hit part of Chang after practice yesterday."

Somewhere inside Draco, his ego tweaked. 

__

'What's going on with the Golden Trio these days? Have they all gone mad? Nobody goes around screwing somebody because they're tripped up.' He thought_. 'Maybe it'd be safer if Ginny lived here, not there. What if someone tried to rape her? She needs to be out of there. But would she be up to it?'_

Blaise waved a hand around in front of his face. 

"Hullo….wake up in there…."

"Hmm?"

"Well, seeing as your half dead, I'll leave you with your toy and get back to my business," he smirked. 

Draco rolled his eyes, waved him a quick goodbye, and then tiptoed back to his bed, admiring Ronald Weasley's baby sister with a soft eye. 

He scooted back into bed, pulling the covers back up over his torso, and stroked her sides, talking to her back in hushed tones, cooing himself back to sleep. 

****

(End chappie! Quite boring, yes, me knows this. . . I sucks at those anyways. But if you review anyways, I'll post another slightly UN boring chappie! Thanks!)


	6. Chapter 6 : See, I Can Fall in Love

****

Chapter Six ~ See, I Can Fall In Love

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

** __**

This chapter contains material that is safely rated R, and not to be read by members under the age of 17. ( or 16 if I'm nice)

(The * means I could've made the word up. LoL. Just thought you should know. Now on with the chappie! And remember….more reviews= the faster the next chappie!)

It was strangely Saturday when he opened his eyes. He'd had a terrible dream, well, a web of dreams one might say, and had died of loneliness in every one of them. A very grieving death. He thought back into his past at the years before he'd met Ginny, and shuddered. His father was a helper of the Dark Lord; he didn't quite ever know about his mother. He walked the school with some stupid accent about him that gave him quite a laugh; a Ladies' Man. But then, there were other times. Times in his dorm, where he sat alone in his bed, listening to the heavy snoring from all the other sleepers, and knew he was quite different. He was different because he was alone. All the other boys' mums sent letters and gifts and things to their child. Even Potter got a gift here or there. But Draco didn't. He'd write letters to his parents, reminding them Christmas was near; but somehow they always acted just a day too late. He'd wondered in his childhood if he'd stay in this solitary world forever, and made a wish to find a girl. And then he dreamed about the Weaselette. 

It was raining, he recalled, _and there she was, sitting in that tree that swooped out over the lake, clinging to its branches. She was screaming, _he remembered,_ screaming and yelling as she attempted to put out the flames of her destiny. Her striking red hair looked as if it was on fire, which he acted to immediately. But as hard as he tried, his feet hardly budged. His body was moving in slow motion while the rest of the world fast-forwarded…and finally, by the time he arrived at the tree, she was burning. Burning with the fire of her hair and eyes that caught up on her soul; aflame with a heat in her heart that no one could extinguish. So he made a vow in his dream, never to leave the Weaselette out of his comfort. Which was exactly, (unfortunately), how he fell in love with the girl. He promised her chocolate eyes that he'd never let her burn up in her own lonely flames again. _

He was sweating. He realized that by recollecting this dream, he'd brought his body over it's normal temperature, and had broken into a sickly sweat. He groaned and rolled over, hoping to find a cool section of the bed, and bumped into her. 

Her sweet, milky skin was moist from her own cold unconscious sweat; her hair stuck to the skin in bits and strands. He gently placed his hot palm against her side, and felt the cool seep into the pads of his fingertips. Licking his lips slowly, he bent down, placing butterfly kisses along her shoulder blade and up to her neck, moving onto her jaw line. As if by magic, her eyelids fluttered as she was lifted out of her cruel dreams and heavy slumber, and as she opened his eyes he saw fragments of the dreams pass beneath the iris. Fear echoed in the far corners, as did death and pain. He immediately hurt for her, for God knows why, and gently kissed her lips. She rolled over as he moved to be on top of her, and she giggled as his stiff member gently poked her stomach. The anguish seemed to disappear, and something undistinguishable flashed into her coffee colored eyes. As he peered into them a moment longer, he knew what it was. It was _love. _

His fingers tickled her skin, and as she rolled over underneath him she moved the sheet, showing a wanton display of her most recognized features. His grin immediately pounced onto his lips, as the pads of his fingertips gently massaged her breasts. He placed a commencingly* chaste kiss to her lips, before licking them as he always did, as if to ask for admittance. She replied by snaking her tongue into his mouth, rubbing the skin on the roof of his orifice with the tip of it. He groaned a little bit, before grinning and breaking their kiss, flipping her over onto the top. She leaned up, straddling his upper thighs, and settled right in front of his friend. He teased his face into a playful smirk, relaxing into a heavenly smile as she drew her fingers up and down his length, teasing his body by sometimes gripping and sometimes not. 

He grunted, through with her playful revenge on his body. he grabbed her hips, lifting her up an inch off his legs. He gently, but slowly eased her down onto his throbbing member, sighing with relief. He remembered when it had been her first time. But this time he didn't have a wall to break. She belonged to him.

He couldn't explain how good it felt to be inside her; he felt wanted and needed, but still loved all at the same time. Ginny was different than Pansy and all the other girls he'd been with, she was much more innocent but not at the same time. Devilish but angelic. She was his type.

She jarred him out of his reverie, plastering her hands on his chest to push herself upwards, and accompanied by his slender hands on her hips, she lowered back down, suddenly surfing a wave of ecstasy. He pulled her upwards, and little by little, his thrusts became faster. She leaned her head back, riding this cloud to heaven, until she felt the pressure building up inside her. 

He felt the way her heartbeat grew faster, and suddenly sensed she was about to climax. Nearing it himself, he thrust into her a few more times, harder and faster, before bucking his hips and spilling his seed inside her. She came a few seconds after, his name slipping off of her lips in a whisper. He moaned her name aloud, and as she slipped off, he whispered something that surprised her.

"Virginia Anne Weasley, I love you."

She closed her eyes, savoring the moment in her head. Tears gathered at her eyelashes, slipping down her cheeks and onto his chest as she snuggled up to him.

She murmured a sigh of relaxation before whispering, "I love you too."

He pulled the comforter around their bodies once more, kissing the top of her fiery head. He gathered her closer, his body tingling at her touch. Before drifting away of sleep, he thought, _Now we both won't be alone. _

It was somehow 12 when he woke up again. This time, in the afternoon, and to a banging on his door. Grumbling something of the sort, "Can't even get some bloody fucking sleep on a Saturday..", he wrapped a sheet around his waist and went to answer the badgering knocker. 

As he pulled open the oak door he yelled, "What the **bloody hell **do you want?!?"

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he recognized the figure to be Blaise Zabini, master of waking Draco from his slumber.

****

"Zabini!!!!" he yelled, "**stop fucking waking me up!**"

Blaise grinned and knew that the redhead behind him was most definitely naked, if not partially, and knew that if Draco didn't have any sense, he would've cut his throat.

"Mate, calm down. I have important news," he whispered urgently.

"Well, hurry up then. In here," he murmured, opening the door of the bathroom so they could chat. 

"Now, what is it?"

****

(HaHaHaHaHA!!!! CLIFFY!!!!! W00t! Now remember! If you review, I'll post the next 'un up here A.S.A.P! so REVIEW!!!)

__

THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS WHO MADE MY SPIRITS FLY THIS WEEK! I HOPE I'M GONNA GET THIS ONE DONE! LOL! Keep It UPZ!

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Roses R Red, 

Violets R Blue

If You Review My Story,

I'll post the next chappie 4 u!

****

~Gabi~


	7. Chapter 7 : A Mother's Strain On Her Son

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Chapter Seven ~ A Mother's Strain On Her Son

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

** __**

This chapter contains material that is safely rated R, and not to be read by members under the age of 17. ( or 16 if I'm nice)

(The * means I could've made the word up. LoL. Just thought you should know. Now on with the chappie! And remember….more reviews= the faster the next chappie!)

Blaise sighed, straining himself to speak.

"T-the other two…t-they…t-they…"

__

"Damnit Blaise! They **what?**"

"T-the Golden Trio….they're…they're…g-gone," he choked. 

Draco struggled to understand. 

"What?"

"They're gone."

"No, are you serious?"

"Yes. They're gone. But they didn't just leave. They've been shipped off."

"Shipped off?"

"To St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Insanity."

"Is it contagious?"

"No."

"Where's it from?"

Silence. Blaise shrugged.

"They don't know?"

"Nope."

More silence.

"Oh, one more thing."

"What?"

"An owl from your mother's ghost."

"Oh, damn."

He smirked and handed Draco the straight and slim off-white envelope.

"Do I want to open it?"

"I wouldn't, but you have to."

"You're rather right, aren't you."

"Aren't I always?"

"Maybe in your dreams," he smirked as he slipped his finger under the envelope's flap. 

Immediately after unfolding the letter, he saw his mother's neat script. 

__

Draco,

Hello love. Having a lovely time at school, I see? Associating much with that Weasley girl lately? Yes, Draco. I am your mother. I have friends at your school, and rather trustworthy friends that I can count on to look after my Dracums. So stop it. I'm still looking into your betrothal, because you don't seem to happy with my arrangement. Why not? I always thought you had quite a fling going with her…what's her name…Hermione? Yes, that's it. Hermione is a rather sweet girl, charming, and has better brains than any of your friends. I don't see why you aren't attracted to her? She's rather lovely if you ask me. But I'm still your mother. And Malfoy pride or not, you will do as I say. And I say to leave her alone. You don't know what love IS, Draco. Nor will you ever. You're 17. 17 is still a young age. Plus, it's almost Valentine's Day. Break it off with the Weasley girl, and ask that beautiful Granger girl to the dance. But I have heard news. I sent this just this morning. St. Mungo's has accepted 3 new patients, Weasley, Potter, and Granger. They're suffering from an insanity spell, cast by that ugly Parkinson girl. What is going on these days? And where have you been? You haven't been to classes in 3 days. Get on your feet, Draco Malfoy. Do as I say. Good afternoon, Dracums. 

Love,

Narcissa Malfoy. 

He folded the letter shakily, his fingers quivering with both anger and sadness. Who the hell did she think she was? He hated her. He'd tell it to her nasty pinched face. He **_hated _**his mother. Now and forever. But everyone else, including the Golden Trio, had adjusted themselves to make due of this new arrangement. Ginny and Draco had finally been accepted as they were, and nobody could change it. Nobody till now. He made up his mind, and knew he had to talk to her.

"Blaise, can you leave for awhile? I need to talk to her," he said, jerking his head toward her. 

Bliase nodded, sensing the solemnity in his voice. 

"Sure thing mate. Oh, and a bunch of us are having a pre-V-Day party down in the dungeons tonight at 10. Straight down the last hall and to the left. Password's 'punch'. Hope you'll be there." he winked, and let himself out.

After Zabini had left, Draco got up unsteadily from the couch in his bathroom and stood at the threshold, watching that redheaded beauty of his, sleeping softly in his bed. He hushed his breathing, listening to the quiet sounds of her mewling as she slept. 

"Oh, Ginny. If only she knew," he sighed, "if only she knew."

Ginny rolled under his staring eye, feeling his presence in the room. 

"Draco?" She half-yawned. 

"Hmm?" he asked, seating himself on her side of the bed, securing the sheet around his waist.

"I just didn't know where you went, that's all."

"Oh."

There was a pause.

"Ginny?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we'll get through this ok?"

__

No, she didn't.

"Yes, of course baby! Why would you doubt it?"

"Just wondering. Do you love me?"

__

Yes! Of course she does.

"Yes! Would you stop doubting me?"

He smiled a fake smile. 

"Ginny, we need to talk."

She swallowed her pride and courage as she grimaced at the words he'd just said. 

****

(HaHaHaHaHA!!!! CLIFFY AGAIN!!!!! Now remember! If you review, I'll post the next 'un up here A.S.A.P! so REVIEW!!!)

__

THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS WHO MADE MY SPIRITS FLY THIS WEEK! I HOPE I'M GONNA GET THIS ONE DONE! LOL! Keep It UPZ!

__

My Brother's The Dumb One,

My Mom Doesn't Know,

If You Review This Story,

I'll Let The Chapters Flow!

****

~Gabi~


	8. Chapter 8 : Struggle For Words

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Chapter Eight ~ Struggle For Words

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

** __**

This chapter contains material that is safely rated R, and not to be read by members under the age of 17. ( or 16 if I'm nice)

(The * means I could've made the word up. Remember to review or else NO MORE CHAPTERS FOR YOU!)

"Ginny, we need to talk, love."

She helplessly wiggled around in the bed, before finally swinging her sleek legs away from all the green and silver and over the edge of the mattress. 

"Ok," she murmured, reaching for her overnight bag, wondering how long she'd been here. Her stomach growled with hunger, and she reach into the bottom, pulling out some fresh clothes. 

"I've been meaning to tell you some things lately," he started, "but I haven't because they weren't the right time."

She nodded for him to continue, wondering what had happened that made him so nervous. 

"You know how my mother died a few days ago, right?"

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled, strapping her bra back on.

"Well, she had some requests," he said, watching her strive with the clasps.

"And…"

He paused, scared to tell her, and watched her struggle instead.

"Need help with that thing?" he asked, reaching over and grabbing the clasps away from her, hooking them together. 

"Thank you, I was in a frenzy. Anyway, you may continue now," she said, and smiled sweetly, but with false assurance.

"Well, like I said before, she had some desires for me, and my life."

She didn't know where this was going, but really didn't like it.

"She did?" she muttered stupidly, as she pulled her gray vest over her white button up shirt.

"Yes," he replied softly. "There's something she wants me to do, but I can't do it."

"Oh?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well, then tell me, you ferret!" she joked, hoping to ease the discomfort.

She didn't. He was still as grim and nervous as ever.

"I'm betrothed to Granger." he whispered silently.

"Come again?" she asked, hoping her ears had deceived her, as she got up to pull her stockings on, and sat in an armchair. He stood and followed her.

"I'm betrothed to Granger," he repeated.

She was silent as a most recent fear reverberated inside her heart walls.

"What?" she whispered in disbelief.

"**_I HAVE TO BLOODY FUCKING MARRY HERMIONE GRANGER_**." he yelled, slamming his fist into the back of the armchair, mere centimeters from her head, tipping the chair backwards. She fell along with it, lying on the back of the chair in a heap of gray, black, and red. 

She curled up into a ball, hiding from his anger. Tears spilled down her cheeks, following the path that seemed engraved in them in tiny rivulets down her face.

He peered down at the crying heap below him, shocked by his own outburst. He moved to bend over, reaching out to her, but she shrank away from his fingers and curled ever tighter. He fell to his knees and gathered her into his arms, and she tried to resist as he gently stroked her upper arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tears running down his own cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

He rocked her back and forth in his arms, instantly regretting his fiery temper, that somehow must've rubbed off on him from his feisty redheaded girlfriend. 

"Forgive me Gin," he murmured into her hair, "I didn't mean to."

She rolled over in response, hiding her mascara streaked face in his bare chest.

__

Goddamnit woman! That'll leave a mark on my abs, he joked with his mind, trying to ease away the tension. _She just loves to leave marks on me, doesn't she?_

He rocked her still, listening to her sniffle in the silence. He felt her slowly begin to unwad herself from her fetal (A/N: How do u spell that?) position in his lap, and rested her head on his shoulder. She sniffled a bit, but as he looked down, her tears had stopped.

"Don't do that anymore, please," she requested, staring him right in the eye with a scared mind, "because it isn't very fun."

She smiled warmly, trying to cover up his mistake for him. He could only smile and nod. 

He stood up, placing her back on the ground. She smoothed out her skirt, and adjusted her red and yellow tie in his mirror, as he stared at the chair he had knocked over. She turned to him, feeling suddenly sorry. She placed her pale hands on his sleek chest, spreading them out. 

"Draco, forget it. It was an accident, that's all. An accident that won't happen again. Ok? Look at me," she murmured, taking his chin and turning his head so his eyes met hers. 

"It won't happen again."

He nodded still, regretting it, and flinched away gently from her touch. But she, being the persistent one, leaned forward gently and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. His heart was melting for her, and in an instant he knew what he had to do.

He backed away, shooting her a 'Don't move, just let me change' look, he walked into his bathroom, piecing his plan together silently in his head while he dressed.

When he came out, dressed in his school uniform, she'd done a curling spell to her hair, and pinned the front strands back with a flashy red and gold barrette, leaving tiny curls to crown her face. She smiled a beautiful, white smile, happiness backing it up but sadness seemed to dwell in her eyes. He twirled her around, admiring her beauty with glass eyes, then he stepped back, still holding her hand, and let her look at him. For some odd reason, they were making a big deal of each other, perhaps it was the fact that the other felt silently strange at admiring themselves with their clothes on, and not off. But Draco shoved it away, and decided to tell her about the party. 

"Got any plans tonight?"

__

Of course not, she comes HERE at 10 you dolt.

"No," she answered, "why?"

"Party," he said, realizing he sounded ridiculous. "I mean, there's this party. Slytherin Pre-V-Day party….at 10.…"

She nodded, gripping his hand.

"I figured. I heard you talking to Blaise about that. But before we go, I need to go to Hogsmeade."

"What for?"

"To get a dress for the ball, you silly ferret!"

"Oh hush, you little weasel!"

She socked him in the arm and he flinched away in mock pain, play fighting until he threw her over his shoulder and walked out the dorm and into the hallway.

"Put me down, you crazy klutz!"

Without the Golden Trio lurking around every door, watching him, he felt as if he could take on the world. So with Ginny flopping around on his shoulder like a fish-out-of-water, he walked down the steps feeling like king of the world.

"You know what Gin?"

"What, my insane little ferret-y friend?" she asked, her voice cut as his shoulder jutted into her diaphragm.

****

(HaHaHaHaHA!!!! Somebody tell me when you've had enough of the cliff's! Now remember! If you review, I'll post the next 'un up here A.S.A.P! so REVIEW!!!)

__

THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS WHO MADE MY SPIRITS FLY THIS WEEK! I HOPE I'M GONNA GET THIS ONE DONE! LOL! Keep It UPZ!

__

My Brother's In Trouble

I Really Like To Write,

Review My Chapters 6, 7, & 8,

And I'll start writing the next one tonight! 

(which doesn't make sense, but I'm starting the next one as soon as I upload this)

****

~Gabi~


	9. Chapter 9 : Something Incredible

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Chapter Nine ~ Something Incredible

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

** __**

This chapter contains material that is safely rated R, for adult language, strong immaturity, and in some chapters, sexual situations. Thanx!

(The * means I could've made the word up. Remember to review or else NO MORE CHAPTERS FOR YOU!)

He was silent for a moment, thinking if he should tell her, and she crossed her legs in pure agitation. 

"What do you want?"

"Oh nothing. You made me forget what in bloody hell I was going to say…" he spat out, hoping she wouldn't see the lie within the truth.

"Oh. See, now, if I wasn't on your _SHOULDER_, I could sock you in the arm, so I might as well pinch you in the back instead." she told him, and he knew she was smiling. He smiled for a moment also, before yelping out from a pinch by her narrow, shiny nails.

"GAH! Damnit Gin! Warn me!" he said, using his free hand to rub the spot she pinched him in the back. She grabbed his hand, admiring his slender, pale, fingers, and frowned.

"Stop chewing your nails, Draco," she said, with pure discipline. 

"Oh, I don't give a rats ass as to what my bloody nails look like. I'm not a _woman, _you know…" he said, grinning and shaking his head.

"Are you…" she admired his nails some more, "…are you nervous, about something?"

His voice faltered.

"Ah. Me? _Nervous?"_

She nodded and waited for a reply.

"Yes, _you. _What, can ferrets not think appropriately in the morning?" she smirked, hoping to draw the playful side out again.

Giving her a sort of warning, he descended down the steps, turning a corner and purposely almost smacking her into a wall, causing her to shriek and retreat back to his shoulder blade. 

"See, ferrets can think properly in the morning. Especially if _weasels_ just happen to be _nagging _at them all day."

Peering out of her hands, she looked to see if there were any more corners he could slam her into.

"Ha ha ha. We Weasels-gah, I mean, _Weasleys-_do not _nag_. No, not really."

"Then what would _YOU_ call it?"

"Well, its not any different, but nag is such a harsh word. We prefer _harass_ instead."

"Ah, the Weasleys, gone rebellic*. Choosing the word _harass _over _nag_. Perhaps because it has the word, 'ass' in it? Hmm?"

"Ahm, no. No! Gosh! Ferrets have some strange minds!" she laughed.

"But yet, so do weasels!" he laughed back at her, smacking her in the backside.

"Stop that! You're going to leave a mark." she grouched at him.

"Oh? And like it didn't take me 20 minutes to scrub that big long mascara stain off my chest today?"

"WHAT mascara stain?"

He just shook his head and laughed, walking into the Great Hall. With numerous looks from teachers, and one straight glance from the Headmaster, he set Ginny 

back down on her feet, and she straightened her skirt, giving him one nasty play-glance. He just ran his fingers through her hair, and waved, walking away. But she followed, for some odd reason. Without the Golden Trio around, she felt, somewhat, _misplaced._ She ran up next to him and entwined her fingers with his, pressing up against his shoulder. He was startled to see her there, and almost jumped a mile, thinking it was Pansy. 

"What's the matter, love?"

She just nodded, shook her head, and then finally, just shrugged.

"Is it a crime to sit with you the day before Valentine's Day?" she whimpered, pushing her lip out in a puppy-dog pout that she knew for a fact he couldn't resist.

"No, now, you have your own house table." he said, tempted by the lip.

She pushed it out more and opened her eyes, looking at the ground, every so often looking up at him with painted sad eyes.

"_ Damnit woman!_" he grumbled, and placed a quick kiss to her pushed out lip before she sucked it back in and followed him to his posse. 

He pushed Blaise over, smacking him lightly in the head with his hand, as a playful gesture.

"Somebody's in a happy mood today," Blaise said, as a grin broke out on his face.

Draco shot him the 'Don't Even Say It' look, and sat down, pulling Ginny into his lap. She immediately dug into the food, a piece of bacon already working its way down into her rumbling tummy.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

After breakfast, they set out for Hogsmeade. Ginny, with a jingling purse of this year's savings, walked next to Draco, who had his own pouch of galleons. They'd been walking down the road, when she stopped, and looked up. 

"Honeydukes!" she yelped. 

"Yes…and…what about it?" he asked, knowing where this was going.

"My sweet tooth is aching, and…" she looked up at him, with sad eyes, "…I want to stop for some candy before I get my dress."

He sighed, thinking of a reason to stop her. An arguable one, too.

"But _Gin,_ if you eat too many candies, you'll add to that adorable figure of yours, and gain some pounds and have to get a _plus size dress._" he said, matter-of-factly, knowing that he had exaggerated a bit, but she wouldn't notice.

She gasped. "Do you really think so?" she asked, worry scribbled in her girly voice.

"Of COURSE! And the last thing _any_ date would want…" he paused dramatically, "…is a plus sized _girl._"

Her mouth fell open in pure horror, and he knew he had this redhead wrapped around his finger. But why on earth wasn't she using her natural logic? She sounded so, so, _brain-dead_ right now, which gave him a mental shudder. He did _not_, repeat, **_did not_**, want another girl just like Pansy. 

They continued walking, and he dropped her off at the dress shop, kissing her sweetly and with a genuine smile, told her to pick out anything she pleased. She nodded and they departed, and when he knew she wasn't watching him anymore, he slipped into the jeweler's for a bit. 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

When he'd chosen what he needed to get, he skipped, (literally) over to the dress shop, standing near the changing rooms. Little did she know, he was standing behind the booth, watching her pick out the dress she wanted. 

He stood on the foot stool, watching her admire a dress she'd been swishing around in for nearly half an hour. It was a sky blue, non-strapped, and hugged her waist perfectly. At the bottom of her stomach, it spread out a bit, and had 3 layers of tool underneath the main skirt. It came with silk elbow-length gloves, and all the main necessities. She'd fallen in love with it. Knowing that she wanted it, but most LIKELY couldn't _afford_ the damn thing, even by a galleon, he walked to the counter. 

Pulling out the hefty sack, he pulled out the precise amount, and a tip, and laid them on the counter, pointing to the changing booth. The cashier nodded, smiling a knowing smile, and scooped the money up. He walked around the shop, and, knowing her foot size by heart, scooped up some sky blue matching shoes, perfect for her dainty feet. Placing them on the counter, he winked at the lady, and she immediately blushed, and knocked off half the price. He was able to do that to the ladies. 

He walked up to the booth door, checked himself, and slipped inside, startling a very red and very _naked_ Virginia Weasley. He grinned as he slipped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck as he buried his perfect platinum blonde head in her fiery red curls.

"You like that dress?" he purred, butterfly-kissing her neck. She sighed.

"Yes," she murmured.

"Well good," he hummed, "cause it's already paid for."

She paused, staring at the dress, and the tag, before spinning around, severely wide eyed. She gasped.

"It is?" she breathed, her mouth falling open.

"Why yes. So get dressed," he said, "and we'll go back to the school and have some lunch."  


"Yes. Lunch. Gotcha," she murmured, still shell-shocked. 

"Ginny?"

"What?"

He nuzzled her neck, buying time.

"You're simply incredible." She smiled, and closed her eyes.

"And, Ginny?"

"Yes Draco?"

****

(w00t! That's a cliff right there my friend! Sorry, this would've been up earlier but I had to go to lunch with my mom to discuss some things…and then drive around for like, 3 hours looking for Tennessee avenue…keep up the reviewing!!!)

__

{THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS WHO PUT ME ON THEIR ALERT LIST AND FAVORITES LIST! YOU GUYS ARE MY HEROS! KEEP IT UP AND I'LL START WRITIN' A NEW ONE!!!!}

Chibipinapple2020 she likes these poems,

I like them too,

Keep reviewing, my friend

And I'll write more for you!

****

~Gabi~


	10. Chapter 10 : The Princess and the Ogre

****

Chapter Ten ~ The Princess and the Ogre

{Anything you see, and recognize, is NOT mine!}

** __**

This chapter contains material that is safely rated R, for adult language, strong immaturity, and in some chapters, sexual situations. Thanx!

HAPPY EASTER ALL MY FELLOW RELIGIOUS AND NON-RELIGIOUS FRIENDS!

(The * means I could've made the word up. Remember to review or else NO MORE CHAPTERS FOR YOU!)

He pulled her close, leaning against his chest, looking up into his gray eyes.

"Come to the Valentine's ball with me," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her jaw line.

She was struck with awe, but not too much. She had been anticipating this since he'd bought her dress; she knew he wouldn't wait. 

She nodded, for once enjoying the brief silence.

"Why would I not?" she asked, pinching him lightly in the back, making him jump. She giggled.

"Oh, I don't know, because….maybe…because you've got a thing for Blaise?"

"Ooh you! You know I don't have any type of 'thing' for Blaise. You know those are just rumors!"

"Well, the way you've been looking at him lately, one can just as easily assume the opposite," he smirked. 

She rolled her eyes. "I've been…" she paused, "…looking at _you,_ not _him_."

He raised two perturbed blonde eyebrows and leaned back to look at her.

  
"Oh?" he asked, feigning curiosity.

"Yes," she murmured, and pulled away, not letting him see her rouged cheeks. 

"I thought we were thinking about lunch, hmm?" she suggested, as she pulled her vest back on over her white shirt. Running his fingers through her hair, and over thinking that tiny box in his pocket, he sighed.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Lunch was gone. Draco'd gone off who-knew-where-now, and she was choosing something to wear and packing things away in her trunk. He'd suggested sometime during lunch that she move in with him, and seeing as he shared his bed with her nightly anyway didn't bother her all that much. It just seemed like an easier move. Plus, with the Dream Team out of view for a few days, she right on continued with her packing, levitating her trunk down the steps and into Gryffindor's Common room. There a house elf was waiting for her, as was a very nasty looking Pansy Parkinson somehow.

"Parkinson," she ground out her greeting.

"Weasley," she sneered, looking at the innocently beautiful redhead standing defiantly in front of her, as if she owned her surroundings. Well, she'd been terribly confused there.

"Shouldn't nasty old snakes be in the dungeons?" Ginny suggested, running through her packed trunk, thinking if she left anything behind.

There was somehow silence on the other end. She hadn't heard Pansy's terrible high-pitched able-to-break-windows-voice, and looked up. Pansy was standing there, eyebrows knitted together, thoroughly confused. Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Shouldn't _Slytherins_ be in the _Dungeons_?" she translated.

Pansy snorted and rolled her eyes.

"I bullied some first year into giving me the password, and then that fat whore on your painting wouldn't let me in, so I threatened to burn her."

Ginny nodded, a bleak look on her face.

"Ah, so, you beat some little 11 year old up, threatened our house portrait, and all of this for _what_ cause exactly?"

Pansy shrugged with hidden meaning.

  
"To talk."

"You. Talk. To me?"

"Of course Weasley. What, do I need to send you an invitation next time so you can hop up and down and jump for joy? Stop being so brain dead."

Ginny laughed. Damnit, she couldn't help it. Pansy was acting so stupid, and saying _the dumbest (A/N: No offense to nobody!)_ things of all time. 

"What?" Pansy squeaked.

"Nothing, nothing. Now, here's the deal. You talk, I pack. Got it?" she stated.

"Yes, sure, whatever. I just came to talk to you about someone."

"Yes, you've _PROPOSED_ that idea already, Parkinson, so on with the subject, would you?"

"Oh, yeah." She thought for a moment, before voicing them. "Stay away from Draco, Weasley," she sneered.

Ginny scoffed, hiding a laugh.

"Says the ogre to the princess," she laughed.

"Say, are you making fun of me, Weasel?" she growled, gripping her wand in her robe pocket.

"Oh, no, Pansy, why would I do that?" she laughed once more.

Pansy nodded. "Good," she said. After a pause she said, "Oh save it Weasley. I might as well curse you as I did the Golden Trio," she threatened. 

"Is that your confession?" she asked, "Or do you deny that also?"

Pansy's face was pure anger. "I'll hurt you."

"Oh, Parkinson, I wouldn't doubt that for one second." Ginny made a quick move and swiped her own wand out of her trunk, pointing it at her threateningly.

Parkinson opened her mouth to curse her. "_Cru_-"

But Ginny cut her off. "_Stupefy!" _she gasped, and Pansy fell to the ground, stunned. Ginny looked at the house elf, and whispered, "_Obliviate_!" The house elf looked around, and then looked up at her.

"Does Miss Weasley needs Cherry's help miss?"

Ginny nodded numbly, told the house elf to deliver her trunk to Draco Malfoy's room, and set off at a spectacular speed through the hallways to find him.

****

(w00t! That's…not a cliff, this time, actually. But I'm so sorry this was late, I told you Spring Break was last week so updating might not be as fast…plus with the Easter Holidays and things this weekend, I had no time to write! Sry if this is a bad one…but review anyway!!! PLUS!!!! I'M ALSO WORKING ON A NEW DRACO/GINNY FIC SO BE LOOKING 4 IT!!!!)

__

{THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS WHO PUT ME ON THEIR ALERT LIST AND FAVORITES LIST! YOU GUYS ARE MY HEROS! KEEP IT UP AND I'LL START WRITIN' A NEW ONE!!!!}

I've been busy,

Yes, it's true,

But I finished this chapter,

Just for you!

****

~Gabi~


	11. Chapter 12 : Do I Wonder?

****

Chapter Eleven ~ Do I Wonder?

She spread down the hallways like fire, nothing materializing that could stop her. Her skirts flapped around her ankles as she glanced at her watch every three seconds, ablaze in the marble corridors that seemed to never end. At last, she came to a solid oak door and knocked 3 times, running 4 fingertips down the center and giving a soft call that sounded like fire upon a burning set of twigs. The door creaked open on its own and she slipped inside, shutting it behind her.

"Draco," she called with persistence. "Draco, come here, love, I need to talk to you."

A moment passed. Two. And then the door of the bathroom cracked open, and he waved his hand in a notion for her to come in. She slowly walked to the bathroom, glancing over and seeing her trunk lying underneath the windowsill.

"Draco?" she called, her mind aflame.

"Yes, Gin?" he called back, slightly annoyed. 

She walked over to the open bathroom door.

"Pansy stopped by the Gryffindor Common Room," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "And I care…because?"

"Yes, you care because she almost cursed me."

He turned to her and feigned terror. "Oh, wow! How did you ever get out of that one?" he scoffed.

"I cursed her back." His mood changed.

"You WHAT?"

"What, are you in love with her now?"

"No, no, that's Blaise's woman. But what in hell's bells did you do THAT for?"  


"Damnit Draco! Because she was trying to KILL me! Would you rather I be roast Ginny on a stick?" she cried, tears of stress and pain welling into her eyes.

He blew out a restrained sigh and tightened his towel, pulling her limp form over to his bare chest as she sobbed. 

"I know you hate me, Draco, but that's not enough of a reason to want me _dead_ for Hell's sake," she sniffled.

"Damnit woman! Stop making so many stupid fucking things up! Ginny, I LOVE you! Don't doubt me!"

She sniffled even harder and sat down on his toilet seat.

"So, I'm living her now, right?" she whispered, changing subjects.

"Yes, baby, you are," he replied softly, not to disturb her. 

"But soon it'll be for a fairly good reason, too," he said. She didn't show any signs that she'd heard him. 

"Why don't you hop in the shower, love. We've got to be leaving soon. I have a few things to do before we go to that party." he said, cooing to her, she nodded and slipped into the shower. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When she got out of the shower, he'd been dozing off on his side of the bed, clothed only in his boxers from her view. She silently laughed as she slipped over to her trunk, picking out a short black mini skirt, a tan breast-hugging, one-strapped tank top, and a pair of tan boots. She pulled on her black lacy bra and panties, before turning around to face the bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He'd woken up as soon as he heard the door open. He snapped his eyes shut, feigning sleep as she sauntered across his room, _their_ room, not even half clothed. The bottom of her mothership was peaking out of the bottom of the green towel, lotioned and round, just how he liked it. As she turned his back on him, he moved silently, sitting upright. He watched intently with a strange want and need as she removed his towel and set to work on clasping the straps on her bra again. He chucked inaudibly, remembering her fiasco the last time with her bra. But for some odd reason, he couldn't help but stare. Her body turned him on.

By the time she'd turned around, he had the sheets looking like a damn tipi. He rolled over, shoving his throbbing manhood into the mattress as she moseyed over to the bed, crawling on her knees over to his numb, hard form. His erection stiffly poked the mattress, and he mentally apologized to his poor member for doing this to it. After a moment of thinking of the ugliest, turn-every-guy-off people, he was limp again. He rolled over loosely, and closed his eyes once more to fake his innocence. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She wondered what she was doing. Hell, she didn't know. But stiffly and silently, she pulled back his pillowed comforter and gently lifted his waistband, feeling around with her shaky, cool hands. She grabbed his piece gently, careful not to wake him, and rubbed her lotioned hand along it. She jerked him up and down, him doing his part by bucking his hips against her hand, making her grin uncontrollably. She looked over at his face, which was contorted in pleasure and somewhat, wonder. She worked him harder for a few more moments, before he bucked up hard against her soothing hand and called her name in a moan as he came.

"Ohhh….Gin!" he pronounced, his voice husky and somewhat sleepy. He opened his eyes, removing her hand gently from his boxers, but let go as she licked her 

fingers. He groaned again, pulling her down ontop of him, gently licking her lips. She smiled against his mouth, and opened her own mouth, sucking his tongue into it. She did this two more times before he grabbed her hips, pulling her closer.

"There are so many reasons…" he whispered into her ear.

She frowned slowly, afraid it was bad news.

"So many reasons of what?" she asked, curiosity mixed with hope.

"So many reasons, darling…that I love you. Damn, I couldn't even begin to name them all." he murmured, burying his sighing, harshly breathing face into her silky red hair. _No wonder they called her a Matchstick_, he thought. His hands slipped down to her mothership, rubbing the bottom and tickling it at the same time. She giggled as she curled up against his chest, sighing into it.

"I can't either, Draco," she moaned, licking the smooth surface of his muscles. 

He laughed and jerked back, pressing his lips to her forehead. An alarm clock rang out into the bedroom, reminding them they had yet to shower once more and change before 10 o'clock rolled around. 

As he got up to grab his bathrobe, to join the sexy woman in his shower, smacked his head softly to get rid of the remaining thought in his head. 

That tiny little box in his sock drawer. 

** **

I posted chapter eleven, YA!

Aren't you just so proud of me?

I posted another chapter to the other story, too

So why don't you review and see???

****

~Gabi~


	12. Chapter 13 : Party Like It's '99!

****

Chapter Twelve ~ Party Like It's '99

****

Disclaimer on the lyrics: The Song is called 'Burn' by Usher, and belongs to Usher NOT ME!! 

It was almost 10. Damnit, she wasn't even dressed. She hopped out of the shower and slipped a towel around her body, wondering what had become of her school life since she'd met this man, who seemed to be uncontrollably sexing her up and down the rooms she'd met him in. She sighed as she jumped out, feeling around for her hairbrush. A cold hand touched hers as the brush slipped into it, and as she wiped the water out of her eyes she saw blonde. She cracked a half-assed smile and scooted around him, skipping out into the bedroom before he said something so he could shower. 

As soon as she heard the water running and his off-key shower singing, she skipped back over to her trunk and dressed, a feeling of déjà vu playing around her head. She pulled on and clasped her undergarments, and pulled out a tan, breast-hugging one-strapped tank top, a black above-knee skirt and a pair of tan boots, and a Gucci bracelet, shaking her head. She dressed slowly, doing everything as if on routine. Panty hose, skirt, tank top, boots, bracelet. She stepped over into his mirror room, shaking her head and smiling as she looked around at all his unevenly discarded shampoo, cologne, and soap bottles, pushing some of the hygienic junk aside and laying out her own little property of them. 

****

She dried her hair, curled it, pinned the side parts back a little bit, secured with a barrette and sprayed. When she'd applied her makeup, she looked up, up into the face of a nicely dressed bad-boy. He was all smoothened out: khaki pants that didn't sag, white T-shirt under a navy blue Polo short sleeved button-up shirt. His platinum hair was cut (for the night, he said) and spiked in the front, lazier but still gelled near the back. Instead of his usual black boots every day, he was wearing a pair of white Vans with a navy 'V' on the outside, and as he spun she grinned. He smiled a genuine smile as he reached over her, grabbing a bottle of his favorite cologne. After applying it, he set it back down, winked at her, and turned back to leave the room. But as he crossed the threshold she saw a slight bulge in his pocket, and knit her eyebrows together. 

It was nearing 10:05 when they arrived. They took the stairs to the last well-known floor and continued through its maze. When they came to the last corridor, he hung a left, pulling her along beside him. The door seemed to be old and rickety, and as he came up to it he leaned in, as if not to be heard, and whispered "Punch." The door immediately swung open, to a smiling Blaise and a surprisingly not-yet drunk Pansy. 

****

"Draco! My good ol' chum!" he gurgled, choked by the smell of alcohol and women's perfume. Ginny clung to Draco's arm, dizzied by the stench. Draco nodded his reply 

and smiled, leading Ginny over to the bar. Kids were conversing well, doubling over in giggles and bumping and grinding like there was no tomorrow. 

"Something to drink?" he suggested, pushing her gently down into a barstool. 

"Coke and rum," she supplied. "Light on the coke, heavy on the rum. Ice, please. Tonight I'm gonna party like it's '99!" 

He laughed and nodded, snapping his fingers and pointing at the girl. Once she'd gotten her drink, Draco settled himself beside her, a long neck bottle settled between his finger and thumb. 

"What's that?" she asked, yelling over the loud music. 

He grinned and draped his arm over her shoulders, falling to her waist and pulling her closer. 

"Spanish rum, love," he murmured, an excuse for him to lean over into her hair.

"What?!" she yelled, oblivious to his words over the thumping tunes. 

"Spanish rum!" he yelled, pulling away and grabbing her hand, pulling her drink away.

  
"What?" she asked, when he began to pull her up out of her seat. 

"Dance!" he yelled, sounding profusely stupid. 

"With you?" she giggled, brushing imaginary crumbs off her black skirt and picking a piece of fuzz off his shirt to buy time. 

"No, Ginny, with Pot-Head. Yes, with me!" 

He mentally shrunk back as her grin of happiness faded into a frown of sad memories. Her eyes clouded over as he draped his arm over her shoulders again, pulling her close to his side. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mention him." he apologized, tugging her hand from all the nervousness. 

"It's ok. You didn't mean to. Besides, I'm insecure. It's your job to insult my friends." she supplied, giving him an excuse.

He bobbed his head in a nod, and tilted his platinum cranium to the side. 

"So?" he asked, oblivious to her answer.

"So what?" she asked back.

"Dance with me!" he said once more, rolling his eyes.

"Gah, fine! If you wish." she laughed, as he pulled her on to the open, crowded dance floor. 

Just as they arrived on the marble, the disc jockey changed songs. Most of the tunes they played were Muggle anyway, so it bothered no one. The song 'Burn', by Usher played across the room. 

Ginny frowned, but then smiled and allowed herself to be pulled close by the blonde bully, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting his chin up to look her in the eye as they guided themselves in circles. 

__

It's gonna burn for me to say this, 

But it's comin' from my heart

Been a long time comin'

But we done been and fell apart

Really wanna work this out

But I don't think you're gonna change much

I do but you don't 

Think its best we go our separate ways

Tell me why

I should stay in this relationship

When I'm hurtin', baby

I ain't happy, baby

Plus there's so many other 

Things I gotta deal with

I think that you should

Let it burn. 

When the feelin' ain't the same 

And your body don't want to

And you know, you gotta let it go

Cus the party ain't

Jumpin' like it used to

Even though this might bruise you

Let it burn…yeah…let it burn..Oooh

Gotta let it burn

Deep down you know its best we stop but you

Hate the thought of her bein' with someone else

But you know that it's over

You know that it's trhough

Let it burn

Sendin' pages I ain't 'posed to

Got somebody here but I want you

Cus the feelin' ain't the same

Found myself callin' her, your name

Ladies tell me do you understand

All my fellas can you feel my pain

It's the way I feel

I know I made a mistake

I know she ain't comin' back

What I gotta do now…

To get my shorty back

Oh Oh Oh Ohhhh…

And I don't know what I'm gonna do

Without my boo

You been gone for too long

It's been 3-11 days

Umpteen hours

I'ma be burnin' till you return!

When the dancing seemed to be over, he was soggy-eyed and delirious, the box in his pocket driving its way to his head. Tearing away from this girl he felt he knew so well, he lead her out into the desolate hallway and sat her in the velvet seat. Pushing himself to the floor to balance on his left knee in front of her, he took her hand. 

I posted chapter TWELVE, YA!

My concentration's wearing down…

Go read my other one, Something Innocent

I'm rhyming and typing, review, so I wont feel like a clown!

****

~Gabi~


	13. Chapter 14 : False Identities

****

Chapter Thirteen/Fourteen ~ False Identity 

Her lips parted in anticipation as she awaited what would seal her destiny, and perhaps ruin his mother's plans for his future. Her eyes had widened slowly as he fumbled for something in his pocket, the air quite stale around them. She cocked her head as her ears focused on a noise, footsteps of numerous people and heavy barriered* breathing. 

And then she felt tense again. And as chills split up her spine, she knew she wouldn't sleep in her own bed tonight. The footsteps got quiet, and seemed to disappear. She looked back down at the man who was kneeling in front of her, about to give her his all, and frowned. She opened her mouth wider to say something, but she never got to say anything at all.

__

The scene scared him so badly. It was like all of his fears coming true, like all of his nightmares were coming to life before him. He was down, yes, down on his left knee, ring in hand, parting his lips to speak his proposal. But she wasn't focused. He turned his head, a little, to listen, as if she were fading out in front of him. But when she turned her head to face him, he heard what he feared. 

Out of the walls, it seemed, jumped three people he hated, damnit, HATED with all of his being. Those three people who were supposed to be chronically insane, locked up, put away forever. And among those three people (and other, though he could not recognize him) was his betrothed. He knew it was her, but only because of the frizzy brown ends that stuck out of her ski mask. And the way her eyes bore into him, already knowing his secrets before he could think of what they were. And that's when they grabbed her. When Granger herself stood before him, clad in all black and baggy clothes, eyes boring into his very soul. He was distracted; held in place by this Mudblood who was tempting him to death. 

He needed his voice; wanted his voice. Wanted to save his beloved. 

"Ginny!" he called, finally breaking the spell that she'd set on him, pushing her into the wall, knocking her into the cold.

"Ginny!" he screamed once more, breaking the dreary silence that seemed to suffocate everyone. Her muffled screaming and struggling itched him. He heard a yelp and a smuggled scream as he tried to run to her, blocked by some kind of invisible wall. "Ginny! No!"

"Dr-a-co!" she screamed, her voice broken and echoing down the empty dungeon hall and reverberating back to where he stood, motionless. With a green flash of light and a "Crack!", they were gone. Yes, the three of them were gone, and with the love of his life. Something moved. Something gurgled, something squirmed and gasped. He turned his head, only to find something completely forgotten. A very awake, very disturbed, very scared Hermione Granger. 

She couldn't move. The place where she was lying felt cold and hard, presumably the floor. Her mouth hurt and her throat was dry, her lips cracked and bleeding now from crying and biting. Her hair was a scraggled* mess, her head pounding and thumping every bleeding second. The rag-like thing in her mouth was hardly enough to stop her screaming, but she tried anyway. 

"Ahhhhhiiiieeeeeeeee!" she screamed, an extremely high pitched noise echoing out of her lung space. She'd done this so many times, she suddenly didn't think there was anyone that would respond to her. But this time, someone moved. 

"Aww, put a sock in it, you lousy Snake-Lover." a cold voice issued from behind a curtain, leaning back in a chair to throw some chips at her face. Tears fell down her face in an icy waterfall. Black hair peeped out of a Muggle baseball cap, in disarray around the man's forehead. But in the middle, she saw the Scar. 

Another voice sounded from across the table, smuggled by two other low male voices followed by a high-pitched screech of a female. An odd female. 

"Aww, 'Arry, cut the girl some slack. She obviously didn't know we'd come for 'er," it argued, tossing Cheetos at the ebony headed boy. He laughed, tossing chips back. 

"Well, you don't wanna get bit by the dog, stay on the porch," he laughed, his eyebrows knitted together, trying to remember if that was the way the Muggle saying went.

Ginny rolled, pulling her hands up over her head and bending her arms, pulling the wad of rag out of her mouth. 

"_RONALD WEASLEY," _she bellowed, "_YOU UNTIE ME THIS INSTANT_", she cried, spluttering on the remaining fuzz in her mouth. 

Ron shot up from his chair. 

"_VIRGINIA ANNE WEASLEY,_" he mimicked, "_shut your mouth!"_

She blinked several times before realizing that the person who'd thrown junk food at her was really Harry, and knitted her eyebrows together.

"You untie me, this instant, or… or…or…" she faltered. 

"Or what, Ginny-Pie? Gonna get big-bad Malfoy the Ferret to save you?" Harry laughed. Someone on the other side of the curtain snickered, but spilled into a full-out laugh when Ron pulled the curtain back with the jerk of his arm. The person with the misconceiving laugh was Parkinson, as she'd guessed. But the other male, she might not've ever suspected. Leaning back in a chair on the other side of the table, a handful of poker cards and a lapful of Pansy, rocked Blaise Zabini; smooth Slytherin operator. Her mouth fell open.

"What, Weasley? Like what you see?" he babied, getting up, pushing Pansy stumbling into the floor, and walked over to her. His foot was mere centimeters from her head, and she closed her mouth, pursed her lips. He leaned over, grabbing her elbows and pulling her up. He stood her up before him, her knees knocking together and her bottom lip quivering. He trailed a slimy finger down her jaw bone and followed the vein in her neck, down, down past her collarbone. Her body shook as she stumbled back, away from his hot knife hands. 

"Oh, I bet now you think you're too good for me, now that you've slept with that mud head of a cousin of mine, huh," he growled, stepping ever closer and pressing her struggling body up against the wall. She screamed as his hands invaded her fragile pale body, and her mind flashed with daunting shapes and exploding light. 

"Stop it!" she screamed, as his mouth and teeth bit and nibbled at her sobbing throat. His mouth came up to hers and she pursed her lips together once more. 

"Open!" he growled, his thumbs prying at her pale pink lips. 

She mumbled something unintelligible and beat her hands against his chest, but he only cornered her against the stone. She broke his kiss and turned her head, screaming. 

"Stop it! Oh Gosh, please stop!" she screamed, beating and kneeing where ever she could reach. 

Through the corner of her eye she saw Ron move. Harry grabbed his arms as he curled his fists, a frown of fury and guilt washing over his freckled face.

"Blaise that's enough," he growled, his eyes flashing. 

"What, Ron, feeling sorry for your poor baby sister?" he questioned, sarcasm dripping like honey from his words. In one hand he held her wrists, pressed her against the wall. The other…well…it was playing this game a bit too hard. Ron stepped forward, eyes cast on his whimpering, yelping, crying baby sister. 

"Blaise, stop! Damnit, we don't wanna fucking rape her! We just want to kidnap her until Malfoy gets a piece of his own damn cake." Ron stuttered, turning his head to ignore the sight. Ginny's voice whimpered and whined as Blaise stepped away, letting her recoil. He instead, turned to her older brother, fists raised. 

"So I went through all that fucking trouble to get him to come down to the dungeons, for us to get his baby sister and leave her lying on the fucking floor, unentertaining? Well, screw you Weasley! I've been watching this bitch since she stepped foot in the Great Hall this summer, and I'm NOT going to let her slip out of my fingers just because her goddamn brother doesn't want her HURT!" he stopped, gasping for breath. 

Ron stood, mouth agape, listening to everyone breathe. Harry scooted out from the table, and slowly walked over to the sobbing Ginny. He knelt beside her, stroking her arm, whispering to her that it'd be ok, watching Blaise for his next movements. 

Pansy was two steps short of high and not too sober, her head resting in her palm as she watched the wall, drawing pretty shapes and pictures in the air; sighed, and then passed out. 

But as Harry looked around, at the disgruntled and angry Blaise, the overly-protectant* Ron, and the sleeping Pansy, he noticed someone missing. He looked around, counting them all again. Himself; The Legend, The Weasel, The Snake, The Snake-Lover, The Whore…and then…and then there was no one. He did a double take. Where was Hermione? Oh, God! This couldn't be happening…

He looked over because of a noise, and realized that a scuffle was happening right beneath his nose. Ron had Blaise pinned to the floor with his legs, straddling his stomach, punching the living hell out of his face.

"Don't you ever…..insult….MY baby sister….ever….ever…._EVER_…again…you filthy….slimy….stupid…._stupid_….Slytherin!" he yelled, putting emphasis on the last 'stupid' with an extra hard punch, that made even Harry see stars. He was dazed by all that was in his mind, the missing Hermione, the invaded, kidnapped Ginny, and now the fighting Ron and Blaise. Not to mention the passed out Parkinson…he left the side of the whining Ginny and swiftly walked over to the bleeding, loud fight, and grabbed Ron's upper arms. By then, anger was bubbling in his eyes and brain, as he tipped the brim of his hat back.

"Goddamnit Harry! What do you want?!?" he cried, popping his bloody knuckles. 

"Which reason would you like, Ron? The fact that you're beating the fucking crap out of the person who is supposed to be our lifeline, or the fact that you're _FUCKING GIRL FRIEND'S MISSING?" _he cried, growling, and shaking Ron's shoulders as his mouth opened. 

"What do you fucking mean, 'She's _missing_'?"

"That's EXACTLY what I mean! She's GONE!"

"Son of a BITCH!" he cried, pulling at his hair. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He didn't know what to do with her. She was dazed, swollen, and scared to death of 

him. After a brief outer-clothing check, he stripped her from her sweats and mask, skimming his hands lightly over her skin to check for anything that could get him into trouble, or that could give him any clue as to where Ginny was. He'd brought her down to the 6th floor Dungeons, into a hidden room of his, that only he and Ginny knew about. He'd laid her on the bed, after clothing her in one of Ginny's old nightgowns, and tied her hands and feet together, softly. He'd taken the chance to hide her other clothes until he could get them checked, and taken her wand, as a precaution. He sat in a chair in the corner, watching her, face resting in his cupped hands. He felt an unnecessary blush crawling along his cheek-bones, and pictures flashed back into his mind. Suddenly, he found himself comparing the natural bodies of his betrothed and the woman he loved…one was better…

He shook his head to break his thoughts, and out of his mouth escaped an unplanned sob. It echoed throughout the room, and as he looked up he saw her terrified eyes snap open. They shot around the room, shifting and turning. Landed on him. Her eyes widened, and he quickly wiped away the remaining tears that lingered on his pale cheeks. A candle flickered as he stood. She watched him. He moved his arm. Her pale, limp form seemed to recede into the mattress.

"Hello," he said, trying to be as calm as possible. Losing his temper would not get him anywhere.

She shrunk back, afraid. 

"Where am I?" she called into the semi-darkness. "Draco?"

He cringed. "That's Malfoy to you, Mudblood. And you're in the Hidden Room of Black," he answered her coldly. 

"The What Room of What?"

"The _Hidden _Room of _Black_," he stressed, annoyed that such a smart girl couldn't

understand him.

"Stupid girl," he thought aloud. 

"Stupid boy," she shot back offended. _She seems to be regaining strength, if she can insult me,_ he thought.

He glanced up after inspecting his fingernails to buy time, to find her eyes glowing dark blue. _Were they always blue like that?_ he wondered. _How the hell am I supposed to know? It's not like I stare at her…_

He closed his eyes and reopened them, examining the floor. But when he looked back up, Hermione wasn't there. He didn't know if it was the 8 semi-small bottles of Jack Daniels he'd tossed back, but lying before him on that soft mattress, was the girl of his life…

He recognized her red curls that were freely showered about her shoulders, and her coffee brown eyes that bore into his very soul, reading his thoughts and most longed for desires. She was still dressed the same, lying there, chest stuck out as if she was stretching. She sat up, hands imprinting into the soft padding. Her curls fell from her shoulders, framing her face. Framing her beauty like a picture frame does a portrait. Which was exactly what she was… a portrait of beauty only one with soul could capture. 

Upon sudden instinct he fell to his knees before the bed, his breath escaping from his slack mouth in a gasp. Without a word, she waggled her finger at him, telling him, _come over, come here. I won't bite,_ luring him over with a simple seductive glare and beauty that didn't belong. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, walking to her and pressing her softly into the mattress. Placing his knees on either side of her slim hips and running a hand through her curls. Without thinking at all he leaned over and pressed an eager, passionate, lust filled kiss to the person he soulfully thought he loved. 

I posted chapter Thirteen, I think, right?

I'm bored to death, sorry this came late

It gets harder and harder and harder to type

So forgive me if it takes awhile to update! 

REVIEW!!!!! 

****

~Gabi~


	14. Chapter 15 : Lost

Chapter Fourteen/Fifteen Lost

There was breathing. Breathing on his chest. Softy blowing on his right bare side as he recovered from his dreamy sleep. He sighed in pleasure and relief. He'd dreamt. There was a person. And a man with white hair… but then there was blood, and amongst the scarlet a few locks of shiny red hair… His eyes snapped open. He groaned aloud and sighed a terrified sigh, rolling over, burying his head in her shiny red locks.

Something poked him in the face. In the nose, and in the eye. Tickled his cheeks with a frizzy-ness he knew he wasn't familiar with. He opened them, arm circling around something fairly tan and bony. His eyes widened in terror as he jumped back, rolling off the bed. He hit the stone floor with a grunt, immediately disliking the sound of his sweat-covered bare skin slapping the floor. He pulled a sheet down and covered himself, standing up at once despite his throbbing body. Stepped back and covered his mouth to stifle a gasp. A scream. His body shook with anger, rage, and hurt. He stepped back again, tripping over carelessly-tossed clothing and fell into a loveseat. Wrapped the sheet around himself, and cried for hours, eventually falling back asleep.

He dreamt again. He slowly fell into a hole of Dreamland, suffering harshly as his body thrashed impossibly in his own sweat, which coated his body. He saw the white hair again; long white hair that fell mid-back. But as the figured turned again to face him, it wasn't his father. It wasn't anyone he knew. Yes it was. It was a woman. And as she turned to face his strong figures, her features became quite clear.

When he awoke, she was still asleep. He grimaced as he saw her firm brown hair spread over a pillow like pollen on a flower. A sheet was wrapped firmly around her, hiding her from him. And honestly, he was glad. He rubbed cold hands on his forehead as he gathered his clothes, piling them neatly in the corner. Rummaging through a dresser set up in the corner, her dug out fresh clean clothes, changing while her eyes were still snapped shut in Dreamland.

When he was dressed he silently called for the house elves. He honestly didn't know what to do with her… he'd never had a hostage before. When he'd provided a meager breakfast for her and left house elves stationed all around her bed, he left the room. He locked the door and secured it with several spells; not even a mountain troll with the brains of a genius could crack it.

He'd sauntered down the hallway and taken a trip up the steps. A few more flights, and he was on the main Dungeon floors.

Time to play detective, he thought to himself as he approached the exact same place where he'd began to propose to the girl. He knelt like he had before, in the exact same spot. The night seemed to replay in his mind, when at last he gave a shrewd cry and toppled over onto the velvet couch she'd sat in less than 24 hours ago. When at last he'd gathered enough strength to look up, he saw a black spot on the wall. A fire spot. Black-green dust sifted off onto his index finger as he ran it over the spot, rubbing it between his fingers. Jus then the bell rang. He realized he'd missed classes again, and needed an excuse. Before students began filing around the corners to their rooms, Draco wordlessly Apparated to their bedroom.

Ron had started pulling his hair as soon as Harry had broken the news. Blaise hadn't said or done anything but roll on the floor, cupping his bleeding face in his hands. Pansy was still, well, passed out and lying helplessly on the floor, mumbling things about stupid people, and smearing her aqua eye shadow across the left side of her face. Harry laughed.

Ginny had un-tucked her legs from underneath herself and stood up, hand on the wall, and coughed. She coughed louder and louder, spittle unconsciously flying out from her opened mouth. Her face was bright red as she sucked in breath after breath to cough away the unwanted congestion and dust that clogged her throat.

She looked up at the 3 boys in the middle of the stone room, two increasingly panicking and one lying on the floor in a bloody heap. She almost smiled, coughed again, and approached her brother, schooling her paler-than-usual face into a grim mask.

"What the hell are you _screaming _about?!?" she cried, standing not two feet from the persons who'd kidnapped her.

Harry looked at her. What else could he do? Her still-slightly-curly hair was hanging from her shoulders, little fuzzy parts still sticking up from her being on the floor. Her soft brown eyes had hardened uncontrollably, anger wavering in and out of her vision as she stared her brother down.

"Well, incase you haven't _noticed; _Hermione, is gone! Yes, that's right. In all our effort and attempt to drag you through that portal thing, we'd left my com_pletely_ unconscious girlfriend to snooze outside that party door." he stressed almost each word with a stupid hand gesture, breaking Harry's once again grim lips into a quirky smile.

"What's so funny, Harry? The fact that my bloody _brilliant girlfriend_ got herself knocked out by…by…._her _harassing '_boyfriend'_? Or the fact that _Cho_ dropped you like a hot potato after _Blaise?_" he pointed stiffly at Ginny, who gasped. Harry stopped smiling and narrowed his eyes.

At this point Blaise looked up, a dazed look on his face. He studied Ginny's own masked features, and nodded to her.

She scrunched her eyebrows together as she tilted her head to the side, still reading the look he gave her. But he sucked in a breath, and continued dabbing his bleeding face with his shirt, which; with a blush, she noticed he'd removed.

She looked away, staring intently at Ron, who was beet-red in the face and panting like a hot dog.

"Oh, Ron, put a bloody fuckin' sock in it! Incase you haven't noticed, I've lost something too, here!"

Ron scoffed. "Like what, your virginity?" he smirked, but anger still played at the edges of his face.

"No, something else that's more important besides your little lost bitch, you stupid horn-dog," Ginny exclaimed, eyes filling with tears. She wondered if that was all she had lost. Had she really lost a lover, or just a playmate? A person to pass her lonely time away? She frowned.

"Yes, that's right Ginny. It's time for reality to piece itself together in your pitiless mind." he smirked once more, turning to Harry now, thinking he had the last word.

"That's not reality. If I were you, I'd look into it about now. He's not as kind as you think, _Ronniekins_. He'll _kill_ her," she breathed, hoping to catch his needless anger.

"Yes, he'll kill _her _because he _thinks_ you're killing _me." _she finished, her chin stuck defiantly in the air. She looked harder at her older brother, defeat and now wariness scribbled over his pale, freckled face. He turned to Harry once again.

"We have to go find her," he breathed, voice trembling.

"We don't know where she IS Ron!"

"Well, we'll _look _then!" He turned to Ginny now, who was lazily studying a still-snoring Pansy with a smirk locked tightly on her lips.

"Where is she? I swear, if he even lays a fuckin' **_finger_** on her, I'll slice him up into cubes so small, NO one will ever have a piece of him!" he threatened, gathering a cloak up about his shoulders and nudging Blaise with the tip of his boot.

"Stay here and clean up; we'll be back," he said, and left out a door in the back of the curtain, dragging Ginny behind him.

With a crack and some blue flames for attraction, he'd landed in his room. Well, actually, _theirs_, if she wasn't dead or if he ever found out where she was….he sighed. It was far to early to plot out this story in his head; he was no detective. He had no clue where to start. He collapsed onto the bed; and to his astonishment the sheets and comforters were a light blue-silver, like the color of his eyes. A note was pinned to his pillow, dated yesterday around two or so.

Draco

Dreadfully sorry, love. The green was giving me nightmares; I should've asked beforehand but time was wearing thin. It's quite beautiful, don't you think? Matches your eyes. Well, must be going. See you later on, perhaps?

Love

Your Dearest Virginia

He sighed as he felt the tears again. Grimaced as one slipped down his cheek. He rubbed away the salty droplet with his hand and he cupped his face, breathing hotly into his palms. He stood once more, and collecting his emotions, pulled open his dorm room door. Taking the right flight of stairs he hurried down into the Common Room, finding Millicent Bulstrode (A/N: I might've misspelled it, sorry) seated lazily in an armchair in front of the fire. He approached her stiffly, face locked into false calmness as he opened his mouth to confront her.

I posted chapter Fourteen or Fifteen, I think, right?

Man, this thing hurt my brain this time!

Hurry up, review review review!

Before my head runs out of rhymes!

REVIEW!!!!!

Gabi


	15. Chapter 16 : Trapped with Tragedies

****

Chapter Fifteen/Sixteen Trapped with Tragedies

She was lounging lazily in an armchair in the Common Room, legs crossed and hair flipped attractively over her shoulder. He sucked in a breath and wondered why she looked so damn familiar? _Pansy_ his cold mind croaked in the back of his throbbing, hung-over head. _She looks just like that old slut Pansy._

His eyebrow cocked and he nodded, but jumped out of his thoughts by grabbing her upper arms and jerking her out of the seat, rattling her in front of him.

"_Tell me where they took her,"_ he growled, clearly agitated.

"I-I-I don't know, Draco," she stuttered, startled out of her wits. He almost smirked, but remembered the situation at hand. He shook her harder, picking her up off the ground with ease.

"**_Tell me,_**" he growled once more, bringing her up so they were nose to nose. _She was terrified, _he noted. _Serves her right._

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she cried, a fairly stupid damsel in distress.

"WHERE'S PANSY?!" he roared, knowing that if she didn't know where Virginia was, she'd know where her goddess was. Millicent's face contorted into a look that was somewhat relaxed.

"Her and Blaise left the party last night to "heat things up". Perhaps you might could have a chance by looking in Zabini's room?" Millicent smirked, wrenching her slender arms out of Draco's strangling grasp and settling herself back in her seat, arranging a book she was "studying" from back in her lap. Her brow smoothed and she turned a page, forgetting he was there, not lifting her head as to reveal her clever smirk as he stalked to the boys' hallway.

Draco slammed open Blaise's door, after tapping the damn thing with numerous spells and finally wrenching it open with a little bit of elbow grease and shoulder power.

Everything was in fine order. Bed made, but clearly someone had been on it, windows cracked for a light breeze to enter. His closet had been unperturbed; bathroom lights dimmed, everything back in place. But as Draco approached his bed, he at last found a slight piece of evidence.

**__**

1.

Draco

Pal, you must be to boiling point by now, hey? I suppose you ought to be. So Millicent gave you my information, did she? Oh, she hasn't? Well, I erased it from her anyway. You didn't get to her in time, poor chap. But oh well. You'll bloody fucking live.

I suppose you're searching for your gal, right? Well, you won't find her. At least not for awhile…only we know where she is. But you have that Weasley kid in quite a tizzy. He's scared…Gryff's always are, right mate? Your gal, she's doin' fine. Warned her brother, thinks I'm going to help her. Tough bit there, 'eh? She's so damn clueless, reminds me of Pansy. Too bad you always catch the stupid ones…. By the way, your chick's quite a fighter… is she always that frisky between the sheets?

Well, ought to be running now. Got some things to work out. Pansy sends her love and kisses. Gin sends tears and cries of pain as always…. You'd better send word that you're not harming that girl of Weasley's. He's got it in for you, you know. Him and that Potter kid, who seems to be getting attached to the Weaselette…Well…tata ol' chap. Have a nice damn day.

Signed,

Blaise Zabini and Co.

Draco growled in clear frustration and thrashed about the room, swinging his head from side to side in his tantrum, breaking valuable things and tearing fabrics and clothes before tearing through the remains and out the door, leaving it standing open in the middle of the silence.

Somewhere along the way she hadn't been listening. She'd been teetering along behind Harry and Ron, in their lazily cast shadows, as always. Between hiding behind trees and random buildings, she'd taken out her watch and checked the date.

__

February 14th.

__

Damn, she cursed silently to herself, dragged along once again by the ebony haired Boy-Who-Lived. She hadn't really cared when he'd drug her along; Ron was the one she was afraid of. He'd grab her by her hair and rip her along the dirt passageways, letting her trip over things and dragging her about until she got up.

Harry had been quite gentler. He'd grabbed her wrist and tugged her along, stopping briefly and letting her get up before hurrying her along to catch up with Ron. In a way, his serene sensibility reminded her of Draco's nonchalant susceptibility; both extremely careless but civil and casually alike. They even had the same build. She wondered who'd beat the other at a round of Quidditch…

**__**

Harry, the little cold voice in her head piped up. **_Harry would win and you know it, Ginny girl. He's always been your hero, has he not?_** the voice was unconsciously somewhat familiar, vague yet clear in some strange way.

__

No, Draco would win, you twit, Ginny shot back, unaware she was fighting with someone of her own brainpower _inside_ her head. _Because we root for Draco even when he loses, remember?_

****

Why him? Potter's so much better…

Because we love him, stupid. Are you fucking numb?

****

But we're Gryffindors, Ginny…we Gryffs were not raised to love rich, cold-hearted Slytherin fools…

Do not misjudge, Virginia, you-,you-,you brain dead fucking idiot! I love Draco, and he is much more than all he seems. Where have you been, lounging in the deep recesses of Stupid-Land?! I would never choose Harry over Draco…besides, I lost my virginity to Draco, remember? Why would we chase after Harry when Draco is already the air we breathe?

The little voice was put to rest by its angry defeat. Twigs snapped, bringing her back to the world, and she realized that there was no longer a hand pulling her along, she was just walking through the trees as if nothing was going on. She spun around and around, trying hard to gain her bearings, seeing nothing but trees and grass and dark, dark skies. Shivers shot up her spine as she took several steps forward, searching for the path again.

"Harry? Ron? Hello?" she called, greeted by nothing. She groaned and continued to search, thriving to find something that looked in the least bit familiar. And then she suddenly realized that in her hand she indeed had a handful of green dust, similar to Floo Powder.

**__**

Why, it IS Floo Powder you twit! But where's the fireplace?

She ignored the trembling voice in the back of her head and continued to search for a fireplace or anything that resembled a fireplace. As she prodded the cold hard ground beneath her feet with her toes, her hand latched onto what seemed like a metal branch for support. She immediately stopped prodding, head shooting up. She turned to face the metal bar, quizzically waggling it around until it gave in with a **_'Snap' _**and the earthy ground gave way beneath her feet.

She woke moments later after a brief unconscious period, the Floo Powder still clutched tightly in her burning hand. She'd landed in someplace odd, someplace she couldn't describe; it was like a long series of stone and dirt tunnels, fire crackles reverberating from somewhere near the end to her tiny little chamber. Water dripped from somewhere to her left; she thought she heard footsteps and hushed voices to her right. She immediately followed her Gryffindor instinct to turn tail and run into the nearest room for safety, ducking into a small bubble-shaped cell with a wooden-framed bed and a large wooden-framed sofa, each piece of furniture decorated in a deep, dark shade of crimson; almost scarlet like blood. She stood next to the door, poking her head out just a tiny bit, and watched the two brown-haired figures pass. Each was clothed in a deep dark robe that brushed the ground and swished at their heels as they walked, hair kept short and green stamps engraved into their hands; as she looked closer, she thought she saw a snake and a skull. She sucked back a gulp and hid as the figures passed, turning quietly and finding exactly what she was looking for.

In the far wall, near the bed, was a strange-looking dirt fireplace, mantel carved out of the earthy partition. Flames licked the apex of the entrance, and as she came to stand next to it and was heated by its flames, she realized it was exactly her size. But voices once more startled her out of her reverie, and knowing she had to yell to get to her destination had not helped her at all. She searched the room for someplace concealed to hide the green dust, and saw a fire-pocked mason jar sitting by the leg of the sofa. She dumped the powder into it with a quick swish of her hand, careful not to spill any and dusting her pale hands on her skirt. She contorted her face into a look of disgust. She was still in her party clothes; fairly uncomfortable and tight nonetheless. She searched the room again, finding a small, slim box beneath the wooden-framed bed. She opened it quick enough, pulling out a small gown that she knew came up to her ankles. It looked as if it was an exact replica of her Valentine's Ball gown, except deep red like the furnishings and shorter, plus the fact that there were more tulle layers than hers had, making the dress somewhat faerie-resembling. And even as she slipped it on, she gasped. The damn thing fit perfectly like her other dress had, as if someone had actually bought one just like it and fixed it to somewhat her liking. At the very bottom of the box there were silk slippers, and she somehow couldn't resist slipping them on. So she did, and quite frankly wasn't shocked when they fit perfectly.

As if covered by some spell, she yawned, a deep sleep washing over her eyelids as she perched at the edge of the bed, admiring the warm fire. She didn't know what time it was or when it happened, but soon enough she'd slipped off gently into a watched sleep, green and black eyes surveying her every simple movements from tiny cracks in the walls. Voldemort's wishes had been compensated; they'd gotten their girl and The-Boy-Who-Lived too. What a lucky Valentine's Day.

He'd appeared back in the Common Room a few hours later, slickly sober once more after applying a quick charm on himself. He'd managed to toss back a few bottles of Spanish Rum, drowning the sorrows of his missing girlfriend by burying his platinum blonde head in the pillows on her side of the bed; her jasmine and vanilla scent wafted out into his nostrils as he gulped back sip after sip, the block of thick steel in his throat making everything impossible. He could, and would stay here for the rest of his life if he wanted. And damnit, he would!

But he'd had to clean himself up on account of an emergency that called all school members, staff and faculty, assistants, pets and any other living breathing human being or animal into the Great Hall for a monstrous crisis. Draco had settled himself in his normal spot, next to where Blaise used to sit, Crabbe and Goyle lingering stiff and solemn behind him, wondering silently where the food was. But they knew this was no snack time, when the man with the white beard in the middle of the Staff Table stood and raised his hands impatiently for silence.

Dumbledore had been known not to make mistakes. And this _was no mistake. _He gotten word abruptly from a student who'd seen some things while practicing on the Pitch and had to go collect an ill-tempered Bludger from where it had been floating in a still manner above a wide clearing in the trees. The child had seen her fall. Seen the locks of red hair swoosh down into the hole, men and human-like dwarves with green and red eyes and engravings in their upper arms of skulls and snakes. The child had seen it all. And without wasting a second, warned them. "_Riddle," _he had just manage to slip out._ "Riddle is back in the Forest." _before sliding away into an unconscious, spell-wrought sleep.

And so the Headmaster stood before his student body, who was awaiting the news of this impatient tragedy.

Whoo!!! 15-16, right?

This has drama, and danger too!

I won't post another chapter

If you don't review, review, review!

REVIEW!!!!!

****

Gabi


	16. Chapter 17 : What's She To You?

Chapter Seventeen What's She To You?

(Ginny's name is Ginevra, I've learned. Thank you, Silent Solitude, for mentioning this…I will change those 15 chapters before this to clear my mistake. Thank you)

* * *

Dumbledore's pale, wrinkled hands seemed to touch the sky. Draco's attention was slowly waning as he ignored the old man's words and focused on the illusion. His fingertips seemed to protrude through the fog and touch the dully twinkling stars; it looked magnificent. His head rocked. He searched the table for a drink, sober but eyes still bloodshot and head throbbing. His gaze swept the hall instead.

Casks and bottles everywhere, but not a drop to drink. . .

He frowned. A crystal glass of red wine was set before him. The red seemed more of a scarlet as he tried to focus…he recoiled, uneasy. As he'd swished it around in the glass, it seemed thick, and hot. He sniffed the contents in the glass slowly. His eyes shut. A strange scent of vanilla drifted from the glass and wafted into his nostrils. His head shot back as he dropped the glass onto the table.

The warm contents made slow, slick movements. It was her blood. Ginny's blood was in this glass. His head shot around wildly, to catch the person who'd done this, but came to no avail. He cupped his face with his hands and lifted it drowsily as the old man's voice rang out magically through the rows and rows of partially disturbed children.

"Good evening, students." he called, letting his greeting sink in. Few of them murmured their own greetings. Draco stifled a yawn and clutched the crystal glass in his hand protectively.

"I am greatly sorry to have disturbed you from your pastimes and naps and such," he paused, and Draco noticed that there was no twinkle in hey eyes this evening, "but what I have called you here for is terribly important." He looked at McGonagall for reassurance and continued with his beaten speech, words slowly tumbling out of the man's mouth as he readjusted his half-moon spectacles.

"Something has happened today, just this evening. One of our fellow students has seen something no student should ever have experienced." He paused again. Draco looked around for Harry and Ron. _Perhaps they died_, he thought, and snickered quietly. Dumbledore continued. "I supposed I should give you the truth, should I not?"

The students murmured back in reply, waiting lazily and yawning as Dumbledore's speech wafted on. But as he spoke again, his voice was sharp and high pitched; importance and perhaps, _fear?_ echoed in his old, deep voice.

"Voldemort has been spotted in the Forbidden Forest this night. Or followers, of him. Hiding in the underground caverns we Staff Members had used once upon a time to rescue students from attacks, but was sealed off due to magical accidents. Just recently a student flew over the forest in search of a stray Quaffle that flew from a late night Quidditch practice, and has seen the followers themselves conveying 3 students of this school," he breathed, voice shaking. Was that perspiration on his forehead? Draco's eyes focused as he scanned Gryffindor's table. _Well, well, well. Looks like Potter's got himself captured. _he thought.

****

He has Ginny too, you fool.

His slick smirk fell into a frown. Damn. That was right. But the old man kept talking.

"Few of our students have been found missing this night, of February 14th. I should take this chance to say Happy Valentine's Day, and that we shall reschedule your ball as soon as this attack is over. But now." he cleared his throat.

"6 students have been reported missing from their evening activities by yesterday's eve. One, of those students, has been spotted, a glimpse of long red hair falling into a hole that we suspect was the escape entrance. We are currently working on her rescue, but the fact of Voldemort has made this a dangerous cause. Very dangerous. Ginevra Weasley's life has been taken into the followers of Voldemort's hands. Her life is at stake," he stopped. Draco's mouth had fallen open and his hands were shaking violently, hands gripping the crystal glass with forced strength.

"We will now have your house officials escort you back to your Common Rooms where you will go straight to your rooms, nowhere else. We will give you further comments tomorrow morning. Please, try to have a good evening."

Dumbledore finished and with shaking fingers he sat back into his seat. McGonagall stood before him, speaking in hushed whispers. She nodded and began to lead Gryffindor's table back through the hallway, but stopped as they rounded Slytherin's table. She approached Draco.

"Professor Dumbledore needs to speak with you for just a moment, Mr. Malfoy," she spoke, softly. He nodded, and gripped the glass tighter, standing and approaching Dumbledore's seat.

"To my office, then?" Dumbledore inquired softly. Draco could only nod.

The headmaster stood and lead the way.

* * *

Her stomach growled insatiably. Her hands shook and sweat was pouring over her brow and dropping onto the cold dirt floor. Her hands had been bound, as had her feet, and her head was slumped uncomfortably and heavily on her shoulders. She rolled it around with much effort, to rest against the large metal pole she had been tied to. She had an urge to just slump down, knees protruding out into the air, but had second thoughts. Her wrists burned from the rope and her eyes shifted uneasily. Something moved to her right.

"Hello?" she called out into the semi-darkness. The only light was that of a dimly lit torch to her back.

It moved again. A hissing sound like a drop of water touching the stove burners echoed throughout the dingy little room.

"Who's there? Speak, or I'll…I'll…" her voice faltered. Tears stung her eyes. Where was she? Why would someone do this to her? When would-

She was brought out of her reverie by a cold hand touching her forehead from the back of her. Another hand was brought up and touched her pulse point, ever so gently. She shivered and whimpered at the uneasy touch.

"Ginevra." the voice stated plainly, _coldly._

"Who are you?" she called out, distracted by the strange noises she heard to her left. "Where am I? What the HELL is going on?!" she wailed, tears obscuring her vision. The voice merely chortled darkly. The fingers that stroked her neck pressed gently on her veins, her breath catching in her throat. She whimpered softly and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Let me go," she pleaded. The figure only laughed again.

"Not before the Dark Lord sees you, my dear."

Her mind twisted. "But what about-"

"Your little friends? The-Boy-Who-Lived and his faithless companion? They're in breathing condition, I'd say," the man smirked. She cried out as one of his sharp nails scratched her jaw line, hard. She could feel warm blood starting to collect there. She groaned.

"Feeling better from that little, drawing there, hmm?" the man prodded. They'd drawn blood from a tiny spot on her neck until she felt as if she'd pass out. Which was exactly what she'd done.

"Let me go," she repeated her plea once more, before dropping off into darkness.

* * *

They came to the gargoyle. Draco was in such a state he hadn't even noticed when the Headmaster approached the statue and whispered his strange, candy-related password. He began to lead him up the stairs, Dumbledore uncommonly silent, his back straight and his spectacles resting unevenly on his nose.

He sat Draco into a new leather chair and watched him as he stared at the ceiling, eyes still bloodshot and head rocking from side to side.

"What is she to you, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore's crooked voice cut into his little universe of silence.

"Ginny?"

"Yes, Draco, Ginevra. What does she mean to you?"

Draco was silent as he contemplated his question. Should he tell the Headmaster the truth?

"Between you and I, sir," he paused, head cocked to the side, "She means the world to me."

Draco sat before Dumbledore's large desk and stared grimly past him, barely making eye contact every now and again. Was it wise to tell Dumbledore?

Dumbledore nodded. "You must do something, Draco. Your father is in this."

Draco barely nodded. Yes. His father was with Voldemort. They were Alliances.

"You have to help us. You must find Harry and Ron."

Draco stopped nodding.

"_Them?_" He forced. _"Those two?"_

Dumbledore nodded warily.

"But they kidnapped her in the _first_ place! And what about Ginny? Am I supposed to leave her there as a substitute for those two _imbeciles_?!"

Draco's face was red with false anger. His mind spun as he remembered all the dished out insults and deducted house points and stupid detentions he'd gotten in all of his 7 years in Hogwarts from those two. He couldn't bring himself to agree with Dumbledore. It just wasn't _fair. _But yet, what about Ginny? Could he go and save her? Would there be a _chance_? He had to risk it. For his future bride, he had to take that needed risk.

He looked at Dumbledore sternly.

"Alright," he said. "I'll do it."

* * *

She opened her eyes, and there was dark. Closed them. Pitch blackness. She saw no difference.

But then there was a hiss, like the lighting of a match. Shadows were cast against the far wall as the figure with the torch approached.

"Ah, you're awake. Good to see it, beautiful," the man hissed as he came nearer, his rotten breath stinging her cheek.

"Get away from me, you sick pig," she retorted, collecting her scattered dignity and pride.

"Feisty," a thinner voice hissed. Weaker; smaller. Like the web of a spider. _So weak it catches all_. But yet she recognized it immediately.

"Tom!" she cried out; a strangled scream in the desolate room.

Tom Marvelo Riddle stepped forward, out of the reigning darkness.

"Ginevra, how lovely you look," he observed. She nodded. He came closer, the backs of his fingers dragging across her slightly dirt-stained, pale cheek.

"Tell them to let me go, Tom. _Tell them,_" the begged. Tom shook his head.

"Ah ah ah, Ginny. I can't let them do that. You see, I am _Voldemort_. And I get what I want, you get it? And _I want you."_

His words knocked the breath out of her as she stared up into those eyes she once knew so well. She closed her eyes and a name fell off her lips.

"Draco."

_

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_

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN!! lol

Voldie's entered my story!

I won't post another chapter

Till you review and show me glory!!!

(lol)

REVIEW!!!!!

Gabi


	17. Chapter 18 : Save Me

Chapter Eighteen Save Me

(Ginny's name is Ginevra, I've learned. Thank you, Silent Solitude, for mentioning this…I will change those 15 chapters before this to clear my mistake. _Eventually_. Thank you)

* * *

"Ah, yes, Lucius's son. We've heard much about him. Tell me, Ginevra. Do you…love…him? Do you?"

Tears were rolling down her cheeks in pain. She heard nothing. She felt nothing. Nothing but that strong, pounding heartache in her chest.

DracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDracoDraco

Had she said that aloud?

She rolled her head around on her neck.

His stony eyes stared into hers. There was no longer that piece of him that she associated with, talked to, _kissed. _There was just a sudden, unfamiliar hunger and power and darkness that she disliked. She cowered in her own fear, head falling back down as she cried again. Cold fingers touched her neck. Grew hard as they grabbed her chin, pulling her face upward as if to kiss her. His other hand, was it his left?, met her face, greeting soft flesh in a resounding _crack_ as she cried out in pain.

"Please speak when you're spoken to, I'd hate to hurt you more," he stated in a quiet, bored tone.

Her shoulders hunched as her hands fought to be free.

She wiped some of her tears on her shoulders as she made room for more, refusing to meet those horrid eyes.

"Ginevra," he called

"What the hell do you want," she replied, broken.

"Oh, the little witch is angry," he babied, trying to pull her up to look him in the eye. She jerked her chin away and focused on the ground; torn, confused.

"My lips are sealed from you, _Voldemort_, Tom, whoever the fuck you are. I won't tell you anything," she spoke quietly over her sniffles.

Her cheek throbbed. She thought she felt blood on the inside of her mouth.

"Ah, yes, they are now. But will they stay that way? Hmm?" he pressed, trying to grab her chin again.

"Let-go-of-me!" she struggled, twisting around in her bonds. The rope scratched her wrists raw.

"Oh, Ginny, you must learn. My manipulative ways can get anything out of you.." he murmured, stepping back and running his eyes nastily over her body. She felt indescribably naked. "…Anything I want."

She grimaced and more tears fell. More. An ocean seemed to flood and rage at her tiny, silk slippered feet. A mouth bond was tied around her head, and she chewed it in her rage, screaming out muffled obscenities.

"Fluck you! you'll neher geh awaeee wih thih! Neher!" she cried, sounding stupider by the moment. She listened for the dying footsteps before maneuvering her body downward so she touched her ankles. She pulled at the rope, tugged and pushed her sharp fingernails into the knots. She worked at them, harder and harder until she felt progress. Finally; finally they came free.

* * *

He was loaded. That was the only way to say it; he had virtually every safety thing attached to his legs, his belt, his upper arms, his hat, his shoes; even his eyes. He groaned inaudibly as Madame Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Dumbledore himself fluttered over him, touching the pouches and tubes and weapons connected to the belt and spouting off words of encouragement and advice that he didn't hear.

He wondered where she was.

Was she covered? Was she being treated safely? Were they abusing her? Was his father in on this? Was she alive? Had Potter planned this?

Who? What? When? Where? HOW?

How was he supposed to do this? Rescue this girl that he thought he loved from the evilest person in the Wizarding world? Pah. He had no courage, now. Chivalry, bravery, and yes, courage, had escaped him. He had been filled to his platinum blonde hairline with worry. Questions he was scared to ask. Advice he hadn't heard. And anxiety. Anxious to go and get this over with…rescue this girl and her Golden Red Boys from this place he knew nothing of.

Nothing of it but darkness.

He had known darkness before he ever met it. It was in his blood, like cold heavy mercury, pale skin, and platinum blonde hair. Darkness.

Was she afraid? Afraid he'd never come for her? Afraid of Riddle? Was she?

God help him. He prayed to all saints that he could do this. Merlin, what would he be if he couldn't?

So strapped up and ready to go, equipped with Hagrid's bloodhound Fang, he set out into the dark, gloomy Forbidden Forest, noises attacking his head as it swarmed with deadly life. Breathing in a quick, last clear breath, he proceeded into the Danger Land with anxiety on his mind.

* * *

She knelt on the cold dirt floor, hands pressed against the grime as she coughed and coughed, retching up her insides at the scent that now flooded her nostrils. Grabbing the pole with both groping hands she hoisted herself upwards, head swiveling around to make sure no one saw. There were four tunnels leading out of the room, four twisted pathways. She scrambled to the first, the second. Standing in the middle of the room she surveyed the third, not even daring to attempt to search the fourth. It was totally hopeless.

She took the first path. She remembered waking up and smelling something familiar, the strong scent of fire. As she approached said path, the scent of fire and smoke was thick in the air. It floated up her flared nostrils, intoxicating her brain…

She coughed. She tried to stifle them, but they slipped through her fingers. Her lungs burned as if on fire, and she leant against the wall and hacked up a lung, it seemed.

She covered her mouth with the palm of her hand, blowing soft raspberries into it. Her heart quickened at the sound of bare feet hitting the dirt. She nearly cried out as she searched for a place to hide, away from her chamber.

She slipped down the second tunnel easily, as the figures passed. Poking her mussed head out she saw the coast was clear, and stepped out of the tunnel. As she snuck down the first hallway, passing a somewhat empty room, a cold hand grabbed her arm. A silky, thin weak voice hissed in her ear.

"Ahh, escaping, are we Ginevra? Ah ah ah, you know the rules, my dear. Now you pay," he whispered silkily, pulling her backwards.

Familiar darkness filled her eyes, swallowing them both up. Hot knife hands invaded her poorly clothed body.

"Tom, no," she pleaded desperately, her voice only that. A plea.

"You escaped, Ginny. The consequences were set," he replied huskily, and with an ear shattering _rrrriiiiiiiipppp_ and with a sudden rush of cold her petite dress fell to the ground in useless rags.

"Never liked those Muggle things," he absently muttered to himself.

He turned to her. Her body was uncovered, naked, _disgusting._ His eyes peeled at her skin, made her itch and burn but yet cold as ice at the same time.

"No," she pleaded again, as his ice cold hot flesh pressed against hers.

"Tom," she wailed. His hands invaded her. His teeth and lips bit at her skin, breaking her blood vessels and licking the leftover blood from her wound on her neck. Bruises of bites and hard-gripping hands made her cry out and scream into the rushed silence as she fell to something soft.

"No!" she cried, her tongue thick and heavy with something unfamiliar, slurring her misunderstand able words. Her thoughts were murky and heavy as she pushed hard at him, his dead body pushing at hers until she felt the so-familiar feeling between her thighs.

"NO!" she cried, kicking him off of her. He groaned and pulled himself away, his white flesh shining in the light. His pearly white-yellow teeth snapped at her.

"What, Ginevra? You don't love me anymore?" he snarled, lashing out at her. She screamed and recoiled into the wall, hauling a sheet she'd grabbed from somewhere with her.

"Stop this madness, Tom. Please," she cried.

He stepped closer, naked body glittering in the room's dim torchlight as he approached, looking like a Norse god. She swallowed the growing block in her throat and hiccupped, no tears appearing. Her eyes had dried up. She whimpered.

He advanced quickly. His hand was on the wall just millimeters from her head, and soon the other was the same.

"What, you hate me because I'm not _him_?" he stressed, pushing into her. She screamed as loud as her lungs would manage. He made no move to stop her.

"No one can hear you down here," he bluffed. He figured no one could. They were underground, for Merlin's sake.

He kept pushing, kept pressing, no pauses. She screamed and whimpered before finally the tears came, stinging burning waterfalls that mingled with his sweat.

He spilled inside her and dropped her to the floor, crying and screaming. He began to yell, as if in a drunken stupor.

"You miss him, don't you?! But where is he NOW, Ginny? Where's your lover NOW?" he screamed, fully clothed again. She only curled up and hugged herself, sheet tangled around her suffocated stomach. She cried. He left the room, slamming the door. A small hole in the floor whistled with wind, occasionally. Outside? She clawed her way across the floor, head near the hole. She screamed as loud as she could, as loud as possible. Her tears fell into her open mouth, but she didn't care. She wanted, needed to be saved.

* * *

He heard a high pitched wail. He started off at a run, still going at top speed while the sun was at least still in the sky. Shafts of light barely touched the dark ground. He ran and ran, Fang's slobbery jaws flapping behind him, spittle flying from the dog's panting mouth. He ran toward the wail, and as he stopped to take a breath the screaming was breaking and wails were brought forth again. Names were mixed in the mingle. He listened closely at his next breather, closer to the wail.

"Merlin, Mother Father Ron Harry Dumbledore McGonagall Pomfrey…."

A pause. A croak and a few high sobs. Another pause. The wailing grew into words, a name. She chanted it over and over again .

"Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco," on and on again. His mouth fell open and he yelled as loud as he could.

"I'm coming," he screamed, "I'm coming for you just hold on!"

He ran as fast as he could, nearing a tiny clearing in the dark trees, where they didn't move. The sun began to sink. He came to a tiny hole, the voice superlatively loud. He pulled out his wand, enlarging the hole. He gazed down it, only seeing dark.

"Ginny?!" he yelled into it, hoping to Salazar that she heard him. A cry of surprise and the scratching of dirt as she scrambled off the ground.

"Draco!" she cried, clawing at the tunnel.

"Hold on, Ginny! Hold on, I'm…I'm coming for you!" he cried back, ripping at his belt for the mini rope McGonagall had tied to it. He enlarged the wrapped up package, unraveling the nylon rope and tossing it down the hole. He tied it to a nearby tree and tested it, heaving his weight on it. He lowered himself down into the hole, his feet touching the side for balance. He tunneled downward, feeling the light instead of the cold of the dirt. A surprised cry greeted him.

"Draco!" it called. But another noise was heard. As he pulled himself out of the hole and whirled around, he was nose to nose with his greatest enemy and fear.

"Draco." Two voices hissed.

"Tom, Father," he nodded, and pulled a quaking Ginny into his arms. A growl, a flash of light. His eyes flashed red. The world faded from both of them as he drifted into that place Dumbledore had taught him of. A tiny safe land where he could let her rest unharmed for awhile, while his body was whipped and lashed beneath his feet. In his hazy land he looked at her, held her close, kissed her. Her brown eyes shook with an unreplenished hunger but a huge fear. In the miasma of it all he kissed her and touched her in unspeakable places, but as her eyes bore into his he could remember saying, "I love you, Ginevra, I love you."

_

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_

Keep in mind this is NOT THE LAST CHAPTER!!!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN!!, NOW!

Draco found his bride-2-be!!

I won't write another word

Till you review my fic/story!!!!!

(lol)

REVIEW!!!!!

Gabi


	18. Chapter 19 : My Darling, My Rescuer

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Chapter Nineteen My Darling, My Rescuer

****

(Ginny's name is Ginevra, I've learned. Thank you, Silent Solitude, for mentioning this…I will change those 15 chapters before this to clear my mistake. _Eventually_. Thank you)

His head quaked. His body trembled, and pain shot through him. As he blinked, opening his eyes, he was slouched on a bed fully clothed, Ginny clutched in his arms. Smoke drifted from the extinguished torches and from a body nearby, groans of pain and the stark cold woke him up further. As he sat up, resting Ginny gently back onto the pillows, his eyes were cast upon two figures.

One, lying at the end of the bed, had a very distinguished hole in his chest, blood pumping from it. Lucius Malfoy's unconscious body lay ignored nearby, and from Tom's body a light smoke was wafting. His face was contorted into a look of pain and anger, and the white shirt that was stained with blood had a green smoke to it, Avada Kadavara had worked, he supposed. But in his shirt pocket, the breast pocket, lay a tiny book. As Draco removed it, a hole stood out. The edges were seared, as if sliced. The pages themselves had holes also, and were stained with ink. But as he flipped through them, they were marked with curses and peoples' names. At the end, the very last page, was Ginny's name, and a number of spells and painful tortures she had endured. Furnunculus, Body Binds, Imperio, Crucio…he wondered just how close he had been to her being dead…

He surveyed the body. A malicious grin was spread across his face, and as he surveyed it further, He saw his open eyes. He peered inside them, to see not danger or power, but hurt. Was it hurt? He didn't know. But soon the malicious grin was scaring him into oblivion, so he moved on to study his father's body.

Lucius Malfoy lay undisturbed in a tiny disclosed corner. Draco remembered firing some sort of curse at him, and watching his father slide down the wall in pain, after setting Crucio on him. He didn't regret hurting Lucius. Would he ever?

As he surveyed his father closely, he noticed something strange. Instead of the usual Malfoy platinum hair, Lucius's head was soaked in dark red blood, his hair lying in a puddle of it, dyed by it. But he noticed it wasn't from Lucius, it was from somewhere near the bed…and there was Ginny, connected to this chain, chest heaving, striving for breath. Suddenly, he remembered the attacks.

__

He was sure she was safe, there. In his Pensive Hole. Dumbledore was sure she was; sure enough he wouldn't've trusted him with it. So when she was settled there, he returned back into what would later be called 'Tom's Tomb'. Or something like that.

Lucius was the first to speak to him, Tom just looking on smugly. He wondered if Voldemort was ever this…calm, and self-satisfied, raping younger witches.

"Son," Lucius's cold words struck him like a bullet to the chest.

"Father," he choked. His hand readied itself, slowly crawling from where it rested on his thigh to his wand in the back pocket.

"So, I see you've completely ignored your mother. Weasley, hmm? Too bad she's going to die soon. As will you," he criticized, monotone echoing in the dreary tunnel-ways.

Draco's pride was boosted.

"She won't die. Neither will I, I hope. But you will. Voldemort will die, too," he shot back.

Lucius's cold eyes narrowed.

"You speak lies, Draco. For that you'll pay, soon enough," he said, smoothly. He seemed untroubled. Perhaps it was because people always threatened him. Was he ever calm like this?

"No, Father, you are the lie speaker. Before this year you've taught me that I had pride. That I loved no one. That I was 'better than everyone'. _Father, I am no better than Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, or Potter himself." Tom winced and scowled at his name. "But now I know it's possible, and for Mother to come and ruin me like that? I have no one to listen to now. Especially when both of you will be dead," he sniffed back, hand firmly gripping his wand. He knew that in a flash he would die, maybe, but it didn't pester him. He knew that if he did, it would've been for a good cause, and he wouldn't regret giving his life to that girl._

But Lucius's anger flowed physically. He shot every curse he knew at Draco except Avada Kedavara itself, and he just took them and kept fighting, dodging mistakes and freeing himself with counter-curses. His Father was enraged. When Draco finally managed to wobble to his feet, he realized it wasn't only his father, but Voldemort too. They lunged curses and burning rays of magic at him, searing his insides and outsides alike with pain, head throbbing and heart beating in his ears.

"Too bad you'll die before she loves you, Draco," Tom was teasing, unruefully. "Too bad."

At last he stumbled to his knees and lunged at his father, fists flurrying, flying in madness. As he stared, tears and blood obscuring his vision, he watched in amusement at his fathers pained, shocked face. Blood flowed freely from Lucius's broken nose, chest pounded inwards with broken ribs and reeling over for breath at Draco's stomach sock. At last Lucius was curled in pain, and Draco turned in all his fury to Riddle.

"Ahh, young Malfoy. What would you like to be served on? A platter or a stick?" he grunted, as he shot yet again several painful curses and hexes at him. He stopped, standing over him, who was shriveling in pain and bleeding from numerous injuries.

"Looks like little Draco Malfoy's had his fill. Would you like to die now, boy?" Tom sniffed, eyebrow raised, smirk plastered to his lips.

Draco gave a yell and side kicked, Tom shouting and falling to the ground. Draco lunged at him also, wrestling his wand away. **'Only his own magic can kill him, Draco. Go for his wand,' **Dumbledore's voice guided in his mind. He held it in his hand, Tom's grin tugging at his lips. He held it over his chest, pointed right at his heart. "Now who's dying, Riddle?" he spoke, and before Tom could reply with some stupid remark, he whispered, "Avada Kedavara." A flash of green light erupted from the tip, searing through his flesh and forming a hole as a crack and many screams mixed with his own yell of pride and Tom's scream of pain. He rolled away from the body, snapping the wand in half, and turned to face his still-writhing father.

He'd stood up, finally. He was standing before the wall in the corner, running for the door.

"Where are you going, Father? Had your fucking fill already?" he smirked and watched as his father took a step back. "Stupefy," he murmured. Then, "Crucio," and watched his father painfully try to wriggle in out of the body bind. He'd be unconscious soon enough. And then he'd kill him, when he was wide awake. "Bastard." he murmured, and moved along.

He turned around, after studying the bodies. Ginny's body was constantly leaking blood, which soaked the sheets on the bed and dripped into the floor, pooling around his father's head. He scrambled over the cold, lifeless body of Riddle, and reached Ginny in seconds. Her chest rose and fell in frustrated movements, and her eyes had opened. He didn't know why she was bleeding, why she was dying. Her eyes were rolling around in their sockets, falling on him.

"Draco," she panted. He shushed her with his finger to her lips, tears falling down his blood-and-grime dirty cheeks. His own chest was trembling with sobs that shook his body, and his tears soaked his bloody shirt.

"Hell, Ginny," he cried out, burrowing his platinum head into her bloody side. "Oh Ginny, please don't die, please don't fucking die," he whispered. Her body shook harder and tears were pouring down her cheeks.

"Dumbledore," she cried out in a whisper. "Get Dumbledore."

He only nodded and scooped her up into his arms, disappearing out the tunnel opening. The sky outside was glistening with the dawn, had he really been in there that long?, and tiny patches of light were shafting through the trees. Clinging her tightly to his right shoulder he ran, as fast as he could. But mid-sprint the realized that he'd forgotten Dumbledore's Golden Boys back in the tomb, overlooked his love's kidnappers. He wrapped her up in a blanket he'd enlarged from his pocket and hid her in a tree, marking the tree with her blood at the roots. He ran back to the hole he jumped down into it, hitting the floor with the souls of his boots. He saw the bodies again, shivering, but overlooked the fact that one was missing.

He ran down the hallway, sneaking past Death Eaters in cloaks and horrid beasts lurking in the shadows. At last he came to a wooden door, iron handles dangling as if someone had just entered. He touched them, electric shock jagging his breaths as he gave a great groan of pain and the door flung open. Hanging from chains and bleeding severely, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter were being prodded with sharp metal prongs by Death Eaters, Lucius himself staggering around the room, yelling forth curses at the two, hanging, nearly dead boys.

Draco entered the room as silently as he'd come before, no one even noticing he was there. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, and came up behind Lucius.

"Father, I thought you said I was going to die?" He growled. Lucius snorted and turned around, mistaking his wand for a spear and grabbing him by his ripped collar.

"Boy, you don't want to be dead by my wrath, do you. So I suggest you shut your mouth and leave your snot-nosed face out of this, before I kill you."

"Ah ah, Father. If anyone's killing anyone, it's me killing you. Goodbye Lucius, and fuck you. Give mother my regards," he whispered, and jabbed his wand into his father's chest, murmuring, "Avada Kedavara."

The Death Eaters watched on in ignorance and hate, but fear enveloped them, and they soon ran. He unchained Ron first, and Harry next, letting them drop to the floor in great disgust. One by one he pulled them up and heaved them onto his muscular shoulders, and started out the way he came. Past the cowering cloaked Death Eaters, past the nasty beasts that clung to the corners. He shoved them one by one up the hole and onto the ground, and soon followed suit, grabbing Riddle's Diary with him. He again heaved them on his shoulders, running to the place where Ginny was hidden.

Creating a sling and a small makeshift sleigh out of large Elephant Ear leaves and moss-rope, Ginny was clinging to his chest in the sling and the boys were crowded together on the greenery, which Draco was sliding along. He reached the edge of the forest in no time, but by then Ginny's body was practically drained of everything she had, her face becoming paste-white and her tongue and mouth dry. Every once and a while he kissed her, wetting her mouth and breathing into her to keep her chest heaving. He ran to the castle with the last of his strength, handing the Golden Boys to McGonagall and following Dumbledore to the Hospital Wing in a great hurry. He stood while Pomfrey examined her, crying at her bedside.

Dumbledore and Pomfrey made him leave. Despite his many injuries he didn't let anyone touch his wounds, try to make him better, or try to get him to leave. He only sat outside the Infirmary doors, in a very uncomfortable chair, waiting for the news that she'd be alright while bleeding puddles to the floor.

"Don't die," he chanted, his mantra. "Please don't die, Ginevra."

He'd fallen asleep and dreamt of deadly things. Horrible curses and deathly spells, scattering Death Eaters and Tom Riddle's nasty, mocking face in his as he cursed him beyond oblivion. Then his father's mimicking face, snarling and sneering as he hit him and cursed him. He awoke to a shaking on his arm, a light, "Draco," and his constant turning.

Madame Pomfrey's face was red and tear-stained, Dumbledore's straight and emotionless, but his eyes were wary and tired.

"Mr. Malfoy, we have something to tell you," he started. Draco's hopes, heart, and salty tears fell as he dropped to his knees before them, grabbing his hair.

"No! No, she didn't die! She's sleeping, sir, I know she is! She's going to be alright, I swear! I fucking swear it! She's gotta be alive, she's just gotta!" he cried, cradling his head in his hands.

"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey started, placing her hand on his shoulder, "She's going to be better than alright, I assure you. As for her parents, though…I don't know what they'd say," she sighed, smiling brightly.

He looked up, bewildered. "She's alright? She's alive? What's the matter? Can I see her?"

His questions poured out like his tears. Pomfrey just laughed a bit and patted his shoulder, shaking her head.

"Yes, you can see her Mr. Malfoy. But be careful, she's finally breathing and it won't take a lot to put her back in her deep sleep. But congratulations," she sighed, wiping at her eyes, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"What do you mean?" he inquired, curious and bewildered again.

Dumbledore smiled and cut in.

"Ms. Weasley is with child, Mr. Malfoy. Presumably, your child." He grinned slyly.

"W-what are you talking about? Ginny's just a friend, I…" he started, but Pomfrey just shook her head, still smiling. Dumbledore clapped him on the shoulder.

"Ginevra is pregnant, with your child. 4 and ½ months, exactly, but barely showing. Have you not noticed the weight she's been gaining? As for her bleeding reasons, well…we're not sure yet. That's why you aren't to surprise her, alright?"

Draco nodded, shocked. Ginny. Pregnant. She was having his baby! Suddenly he was ecstatic and started to laugh hysterically.

"Ah ha! She's having my baby! Wonderful! Bloody Brilliant!" he cried, jumping up off his knees. He calmed himself, though, wandering into the hospital room with a blush in his cheeks and dried blood on his arms, but a grin plastered to his face.

Ginny was just as happy, smiling weakly in a pool of white sheets, substitution-al blood, and IV's. She looked so lonely, so small…but she was pregnant, with his child. Imagine that. He was going to be a father! He plopped down into a chair beside her bed, leaning over eagerly and taking her hand.

"Can you believe it, Draco? Me, having a baby. I must be insane," she sighed. But she still smiled, bright beneath her sadness.

"We're going to be a family, Gin. We can get married, and I can graduate and be an Auror, and you can have the baby and we'll move into my Mansion and…"

"Oh," she sighed, hand on her stomach, a habit that she'd taken up. "I for-forgot about that, you-know-what," she smiled.

"Oh!" he gasped. He checked himself, and his pockets for the ring he'd been carrying. He brought it out of his pocket, the little black velvet box between his two fingers. He sank down on one knee, about 20 students as onlookers in the doorway. He took her hand, the free one, and pressed it to his lips, slipping the ring onto her ring finger.

"Ginevra Anne Weasley…" he started, seeing the tears sparkle in her eyes. "Will you…will you marry me?" he sighed, eyes full of anxiousness. She smiled and laughed lightly, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Oh, yes! Yes, I will! I'll marry you!" she cried out, full color back in her face.

Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, as he had been, looking onto the scene. He watched as the color reappeared in her face and her body practically inflated, stomach a mountainous thing. But not long after he was showering her with kisses, was her face contorted in pain and she was writhing in her bed.

"Ginny? Ginny, what's wrong? Ginny, are you alright? Speak to me!" he cried, clutching her hand.

"It's the baby," she cried. "Get Pomfrey! Get Pomfrey! Hurry! It's my baby!"

Dumbledore appeared by her side immediately, checking her pulse, rubbing her forehead, massaging her stomach. He mumbled to himself as Pomfrey held the child's hand, mopping her forehead with a wet cloth.

"Hmm. Very strange, yes. In all of my days, I've only seen this happen a few times…" he murmured. Draco was ecstatic once more.

"What? What's wrong with her? What's the matter with my baby? Is she alright?"

Pomfrey grew frustrated and clamped her hand over his mouth, creating the quiet Dumbledore was searching for to explain.

"Ms. Weasley is of magical origin. Her body was set to a level of peace and a level of love, which when fulfilled creates something magical, or in this case an advance in a physical formation. Ginevra was pregnant, exactly 4 months, when she arrived in this hospital wing. But at your proposal, the magic in her veins propelled the growth of your child, making it mature enough to be born. Her body signals this, and now the child is ready to be labored, and Ginevra is having contractions," he explained calmly, Ginny's screams blaring in the background.

"Her body is now magically connected to you, with the bringing forth of her first child. She's bound to you so tight that when you hurt, she hurts too. When you bleed, she bleeds also. But whilst she was set in the Pensive Hole, she had no knowing of what was going on, so while you bled her body postponed it. Now that she's out of that place, her body has been catching up, bleeding the blood that you lost in one shot while yours was in tiny bits," he explained further. Signaling he was done, he left Draco at Ginny's bedside while Madame Pomfrey instructed her verbally, nurses pulling open her legs and grunting instructions.

"Breathe!.." Pomfrey's voice yelled.

"One.." Draco's calm voice coaxing her on.

"Two.." Nurse at her side, yelling over the commotion outside.

"Three…" Nurse at her legs, pushing back children and searching for the baby.

"Push!" Draco's voice over her yelling.

"Breathe!"

"One…"

"Two…"

"Three…"

"Push!"

About two hours later of pushing and crying, screaming and yelling and about a thousand obscenities, Ginny had conceived a baby boy. A particularly large, barely blonde-red haired baby boy. Ginny panted as she cradled him in her arms, crying and smiling at this newborn figure.

As Ginny was getting cleaned up Draco stood outside, chatting happily with some fellows when Hermione Granger pranced up to him calmly.

"Congratulations. Oh, and by the way, Draco…never forget that I am the spell master," she rolled her eyes. He blushed at the memories of her, his confession on his mind. He marched into her room once more, closing the door behind the two of them.

"Ginny, I must tell you something. No, it can't wait and yes I am truly very sorry but I didn't know," he panted. She looked on, intrigued.

"Continue," she sighed, readying her outer exterior for his news.

"I-slept-with-Hermione-when-you-were-kidnapped-because-she-pretended-to-be-you-and-I-didn't-know-any-better…I'm so so sorry, Gin, I really am."

She sighed, and reached for his hand.

"It's alright, Drake. I swear. We're engaged now, it doesn't bother me. I knew you were supposed to marry her anyway, but it doesn't bother me now. But if you'd done it on purpose, I suppose I'd kill myself," she said, very thoughtful like. But she brightened, moments later.

"But Ron is ecstatic. They've been healed and cured, and now the Golden Trio, Blaise, and Pansy are all up on creating our wedding. I'm afraid that half of it will be in Green and Silver, the other half in Red and Gold," laughed. Draco chuckled slightly, a thing he'd been doing more often, and touched the baby boy's face.

"What's his name, Gin?" he whispered, afraid to wake him. She looked up, russet eyes questioning.

"I haven't named him yet. Not without the father," she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What about...what about…Oracle? After all, your origin prophesized that you'd be with child," he sniffed, jealous.

"He needs a middle name, Draco. What about that? Wait, what if…what if we named him Sebastian? Sebastian Oracle Weasley?" she sighed.

His face screwed up in mock disgust. "Weasley? Such a nasty name…what about Malfoy?" he asked, eyebrow puncturing the dirt, perspiring skin of his forehead.

"Oh, whatever. Sebastian Oracle Malfoy. Has a nice ring, dontcha think?" she sighed, sleep overcoming her. She snapped awake when Draco was trying to take her baby.

"Nuh uh, Mr. Malfoy. Not with those nasty hands, you aren't touching my baby anymore," she half-giggled, half-yawned. He disappeared into the shower portion, cleaned himself briefly and changed, and came to a sleeping Ginevra and scooped Sebastian into his arms.

"Sebby," she murmured. He laughed, and slipped into the tiny bed beside her, wrapping himself around her tiny body.

"No, love, it's Draco. Sorry," he laughed. She smiled and rolled over, snuggling into his chest. Draco cradled little Sebastian to his chest, the small child resting between them. As they drifted off into a deep, earned sleep, Draco heard Ron outside hollering.

"I'M THE UNCLE AND THE COLORS WILL BE RED AND GOLD!" he cried.

"Oh Merlin! I'm a fucking uncle!" he squealed, and hollered in his excitement.

"I'M AN UNCLE! WHOO!"

This also is NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! I have one more smaller one to go before I leave Sunday morning, if I can get it written in one day. But if not, I'll end this one and create a small, one-shot follow up of their wedding. Should be interesting. ;)

CHAPTER NINETEEN!!, WHOO!

Almost the end, and Ron's totally eluded!!!

If you don't review this right away,

I'll have this chap discluded! (which makes no sense)

(lol)

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REVIEW!!!!!

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Gabi


	19. Chapter 20 : The End

**Chapter Twenty The End**  
  
**_(I'm in New Jersey; my disk is being sucky and won't work, so I'm starting everything from where I left off, at scratch instead of the planned chapters I USED to have. I completely fucked up and I'm awfully sorry if things seem a bit crooked or so...Again, I completely fucked up...grr...enjoy!)_**

* * *

For the next two or so months, the world spun. Due to Sebastian's growth matural, by two months he was as large as a two-year-old and had the brains to go with it. He could say things, he found things utterly fascinating and hilarious, and thought that his Uncle Ron, who was leading him around the Quidditch Trophy Room, (Whom Ginny had annoyed by coaxing her son into calling him 'Uncle Ronnikins') was the 2nd smartest man in the world, compared to his father. Draco purely beamed the whole month after that.  
  
The wedding came in no time. Dumbledore had in fact egged it on, pressing the students into buying gowns, as he had merged both the wedding and the Valentine's Ball into one. Mrs. Weasley, her husband and her elder sons shipped themselves in from The Burrow and Egypt and tons of other places, just for their darling relative's judgmentally young wedding.  
  
With several large scoldings, screeches, threats and of course promises and curses, Molly Weasley signed her daughter's lifetime permission slip for her to get married, (she was underage, of course) as Snape signed Draco's. (Who knew?) Ron came to trust Draco almost fully, but still kept an eye peeled and in his direction whenever the two entered a room together.  
  
Ron had been seen before the Wedding, standing at the alter and preaching to his baby sister's fiancée.  
  
"You lay one hand on her..." he ground out.  
  
"She's to be my wife, Weasley! You expect me to never touch her?_ As if I haven't already_," he whispered, keeping his voice hushed from the approaching Weasley Sr.  
  
"What goes on in _your _bedroom is none of mine concern, but if you hit her..._ever_..." he trailed off, finger in Draco's face and his own face red as an apple, and fairly shiny too. Draco just laughed, and patted his shoulder lightly.  
  
"I'd never hurt her, Weasley. She's going to be my_ wife_, for God's sake. And I," he cleared his throat, stood tall, "Am NOT my father, have you not noticed. I killed him, why would I want to be him?" he smirked.  
  
Ron's face cleared.  
  
"Righto," he nodded. "As long as I have your word."

* * *

In Ginny and Draco's shared bedroom, Ginevra Anne Weasley was preparing for her wedding, tears threatening to fall from her charcoal-rimmed eyes. Her mother bustled around her at medium speed, tissue firmly clutched in her hand and sniffling as she checked her daughter's dress, shoes, hair.  
  
She was wearing her ball gown, the one Draco purchased for her before she was kidnapped, as he had requested it. She looked like a water-spirit, all doused in blue everywhere with the exception of her face, and skin and hair.  
  
Her mother curled her hair and flipped it up into something quite resembling a bun, and pinned it down with a few sky-blue rhinestone clips. She then turned, back to her daughter, and pulled something gingerly out of a box.  
  
"Mum?" Ginny inquired, her attention turning from her gloves to her silent mother.  
  
"Yes, dear?" she hummed, pulling it out and turning to face her daughter. In her fragile, emotion-shaking hands she held a veil, clip attached to the top. As Ginny watched her, a curious look on her face, her mother firmly clipped it to the upper portion of her bun, smiling a sad smile.  
  
"Mum, are you alright?" Ginny asked quietly. Her mother just fanned her hand out, waving it as if to shoo her away.  
  
"Oh, yes, I'm perfectly fine, darling. It's just..." she trailed off, hand motioning to her daughter, and tears spilled over her eyes.  
  
"Oh, mummy, don't cry. It's not like I'm leaving you forever, or anything," Ginny whispered. Her mother only leaned her head back, let loose the sound of a dying animal, and dropped her head on her daughter's shoulder.  
  
"Oh, Ginny, I feel so happy for you. But I'm so terribly afraid I'm going to loose you," she murmured, fixing herself again. Ginny stood stiff at this, rethinking it all. Tears stood at the very rims of her eyes, warning her that they would spill over at any time.  
  
Her mother turned and looked at her, shaking her head.  
  
"Oh, stop it Ginny. You're going to make me start again," she sighed. Her daughter nodded and brushed off her dress, hands slightly trembling inside her silk gloves.  
  
"Let me get your father, dearest," she whispered, kissing her daughter's cheek.  
  
Ginny nodded and stood in the cluttered bathroom, her robes and his hanging on the little hooks, his cologne wafting about and into her nostrils, his dirty clothes in the hamper, his smile, his laugh, him. She sighed.  
  
Her father appeared not too long later, smiling a joyous smile and extending his arm for her to grab. "Ready to go, Pumpkin?" he smiled. She nodded, arranging her veil and waving to her mother. Her father slowly began walking down the hall, his speed upping. As they approached the Great Hall doors, Ginny smiled at the strange decorations but let it fall to a nervous frown when the Wedding March proceeded to play.

* * *

Draco stood at the alter before Dumbledore, tux pressed neatly and tie a shining silver. Sebastian clung to his father's leg, tiny, pudgy hands wrapped firmly around Draco's large, soft ones. He grinned at his mother, who grinned back. As her eyes searched Draco's face, she saw a glimpse of that all-too-familiar smirk she thought she could be afraid of forever. But she was becoming accustomed to it...She passed people she knew. Relatives. Friends. Enemies. All of a sudden, her relationship and love-life with Draco passed before her blurring eyes as her father lead her down the marble isle.  
  
_His face. His smile. Their warnings, her hate. Seduction. Loathing. Platinum hair. Silver eyes. Flurries of red. Snowflakes. Drowning. Fire. His promise. His kisses, his hugs. His hate. Malicious. Delicious. Acception. Jealousy? Hate. His pride. Her smoldering hair. Locks of blonde. Blood. Who? The water. Her smile. His smirk. Their hands; his touch. Their danger. His father. Death. Who's mother? Betrothal. Her friend. The rumors. His anger. His hit. Her tears. Her virginity. Lost, many times it seemed. Kidnapped. Pain, memories. Names. His tears. Tom. Rape. Anger, hurt. Blood. Rescue, death. Heart. Love. News. A baby. Her heart; his child. A baby boy. Their baby. Their baby boy. Their bond..._  
  
She was standing before him before she knew it. His hands were gripping hers tightly, but as she searched his tux for something familiar, she saw a vial. Completely unaware of the many onlookers, she snatched her hand away and grabbed the vial, the brown-red contents slowly falling across the inside of the bottle. She swished it around; its heaviness and slowness making her heart quake. Her veins pumped faster.  
  
"Is this..." she started off.  
  
"It's your blood," he spoke, silently. Tears once again threatened to fall.  
  
She remembered the drawing of the red, thick, sticky liquid from her neck. Tom's disgusting grin as he poured it into the tiny crystal bottle, pushing a cork in the top.  
  
Her gloved hand fingered the runes in the crystal. She looked up at him.  
  
"Tom gave this to you. He gave you will power; courage, to find me..." she whispered. A tear fell. Her face collapsed into a grateful smile as she gripped his hands once more. Their vows came and went, and rings were being slipped onto their fingers. As they neared each other for the final moment, a dead screech filled the silent air and a name punctured the quiet.  
  
"_DRACO MALFOY_!" She shrieked across the Great Hall.  
  
Draco's face went slack. Hermione, who stood in the front row, nodded at Ginny. Narcissa Black/Malfoy approached, her ghost translucent against the crowd.  
  
"What is this? You? _Married_? To a **_Weasley_**??" She screeched, face screwing up in rage. Her eyes fell to Ginny's son, who had collected two handfuls of her dress in his pudgy palms, burying his head in her skirt as his gaze was cast upon the ghost.  
  
"What, the Weasley Slut finally got knocked up? Such a sad story for a bitch, _hmm_?" she sneered.  
  
Ginny's fragile hands cupped her son's ears gently, boxing them.  
  
"I'd rather you didn't use those obscenities around my son, you ugly ass whore of a bitch," she snarled back, face contorted in rage.  
  
"Well, if anyone's a whore, it's not me that's for sure. And besides, I thought Weasley bitches were meant to sleep with random people? That's what whores do," she calmly explained, malice dripping from her voice. Her face crumpled back into a sneer.  
  
Hermione stepped forward slowly, hands linked with Ron's, a bottle between their laced fingers.  
  
"Nobody talks to Ginevra Weasley like that, you ugly bitch. I personally think the Malfoy Bitch has had enough to say, don't you think, Ron?" she blinked, eyes flashing. But Ron was only staring at his baby sister. He gulped.  
  
"Yes," he replied, nodding firmly, eyes narrowing at Narcissa.  
  
Hermione took this as her cue and before Narcissa could reply, Hermione had her wand pointed firmly at Narcissa's ghostly chest.  
  
_"Ghosts of Death have caused much trouble, _

_Turn this Malfoy Bitch to bubbles!"_  
  
She chanted, smiling grimly. Narcissa's screeching, cursing ghost of a body was sucked into the bottle the couple held between them, tiny bubbles popping out the top in words. Hermione quickly fumbled for the cork, stopping the bottle with her thumb. Ron popped up from searching the bench and wedged it into the neck, the solid green and black-gray bubbles swirling angrily inside it. They stashed it in a tiny box and locked it, clapping their hands together as if some filth contaminated them.  
  
She nodded. "You may continue, now," she smiled sweetly. Dumbledore turned to the crowd, nodding back to Hermione.  
  
"Is anyone else has any objections, it would save us great time if you displayed them now," he called to the crowd, which rustled uncomfortably as people rearranged their shocked faces into curious ones. Dumbledore nodded once more.  
  
"Alright. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I now pronounce you husband and wife."  
  
He annoyed them slightly with a dramatic pause, in which he smiled and nodded.  
  
"You may now kiss the bride, Mr. Malfoy," he grinned.  
  
They came together gently, Ginny covering her son's eyes with her hands as Draco scooped her up into his burly arms, lips covering hers as their tongues danced to an unheard song. Forever seemed to pass by, as a memory was made. Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
  
"I didn't think it would be that long," he murmured under his breath, elbowing Draco who blushed slightly. He collected Ginny into his arms, who passed Sebastian on to her mother.  
  
"Reception Time!" Blaise called into the applauding audience, who laughed and cheered and hooted. "Time to get this party on the road!" he cried, collecting Pansy into his arms.  
  
They descended the few steps into the crowd, and grinned.

* * *

Hours and hours of partying, dancing, eating, and drinking the night away, Ginny followed Draco, blindfolded, to somewhere. When she had stumbled her way up steps and down passageways, he removed it, hands delicately sliding over her face, to her shoulders, to her hips where they rested. She blinked twice and fluttered her eyelids, opening her curious brown eyes.  
  
She gasped in a breath, leaning back into Draco. The cold breeze pushed against the two of them as Draco gripped a metal bar in support, chilling them both.  
  
"It's...it's..." she stuttered, eyes glowing.  
  
"Pretty?" he murmured, face buried in her now let-down hair. She shook her head slowly, taking it all in.  
  
"Beautiful," she whispered. Her hands touched her mouth gently, as if the things she were seeing would disappear.  
  
"No, my dear. Yu are terribly wrong. It can't be beautiful; because no one is as beautiful as you," he mumbled into her neck. She closed her eyes, still seeing the lights.  
  
Below them, the lake shone with fairy lights as the Dance of Seasons was drifting on below them. Glorious reds, greens, blues, pinks, oranges and even yellow and white sparkled in tiny little circles of lights, which hovered and floated across the surface of the lake. The torch-lit pathways across the grounds glowed softly, the dew on the grass reflecting the scene. Early night flowers bloomed near the shore of the lake, the Whomping Willow's branches and wisps of leaves whispered to her in the night, the splendid scenery of it all took her breath away. She breathed outward in a new gasp, no knowledge she was even holding her breath.  
  
"Oh my..." she whispered.  
  
He nodded, chin resting on her shoulder lightly as his fingers wove into hers. He lowered her gently, swaying, onto a small white-velvet futon, pulling her into his lap. Her eyes were tearfully overflowing.  
  
"How did you...when did you...wha...?" she trailed off, voice failing. Her silky brown eyes faced those of silver-blue, smiling softly through tears.  
  
"Dearest, you know I love you. This is just a small way to show how big of a piece of me you are," he whispered, kissing her neck. She closed her eyes, memorizing everything. His hands moved a great deal of ways down her body, falling on the hem of her dress. But first he unsnapped her shoes, kissing her feet. He kissed up her legs, up her thighs, up her stomach and chest, neck, and finally resting on her lips. But as he turned her face away from his to look out at the fairies, she gasped.  
  
The previously dancing fairies were now forming words, dipping up and down. As she studied the scene greatly, her eyes overflowed and she fell into Draco's loose embrace. She fell atop him, hands slicing over every inch of him, his body memorized into her mind. They fought passion for passion like this for what seemed forever, before clothing was ripped away and love was made. Gasp for gasp, moan for moan, heart for heart. It was love.  
  
But still bobbing out over the lake were the glowing fairies, who, persuaded by Draco's heart-filled story, had formed the softly rainbow- glowing words, "I Love Ginevra Weasley 4-Ever, Till I Die."

* * *

**THE END!!! Did you like it? Please send some last-minute reviews as I am on VACATION AND WOULD LIKE SOME GRATTIUDE...LOL**


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